Here it is - the seeping silence. I woke up this morning to my mom leaving, I assume, and so far no one has come home. I'm wondering where they are (dad and mum) but I know it's no big issue. Pretty much I'm left here to my own thoughts, and that's not so bad.
On one side I feel relieved - to capture these moments and use them to my advantage is very tempting. On the other, I feel restless. I know I should write, but my mind keeps distracting itself for the seemingly impossible task at hand.
I know the things I must do. I must complete this story, I have to. It doesn't matter if I fail now, because I will keep trying until it's complete. I want to keep working on it till I can safely say I've written all I have to write; but I don't think that'll ever happen.
Who are all those people I keep stored in my mind and heart? I think of them, now and again, their voices at the edge of my mind. They are a part of me, extensions of myself crafted by invisible words that are magical threads. Patterns weave where we can't see, but imagine. A whole universe of infinite possibilities and scenarios, all subject to our hearts' whims and minds' follies.
And even if I already grasp so many threads in my mind, I know with surety that more will come. I'll catch these words like butterflies caught in nets. And when I set them free they will paint a picture of colour across the sky, one everyone can enjoy.
Hahah...anyway. It's one thing to talk here about it and another to actually do it. I'm off; till another time.
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