Staring out of a window illuminated by an orange glow from the street lights, I write. Writing seems to liberate me. It allows me to go places I've never been and kart-wheel in the midst of phantasmagorias. However, sometimes I encounter this hurdle of writers block which can only be overcame by "keeping on", as my grandmother would say so... I write. Looking frantically in various directions for an intangible key to a treasury of thoughts, I find nothing to alarm my sensory. That is until I stumble upon the floor.
What I find is a weird shadow of my grandmothers "decorative masterpiece". It's saturated in the window's reverberation of the street light yet housed by the uncanny shape of the window. Happily I smile, fore my inspiration has just come! But sadly that was short lived....
What I find is a weird shadow of my grandmothers "decorative masterpiece". It's saturated in the window's reverberation of the street light yet housed by the uncanny shape of the window. Happily I smile, fore my inspiration has just come! But sadly that was short lived....
It's a peaceful night. About 11:57 on a Wednesday night and my younger siblings are joyously playing 007 on Nintendo in the room next door. I refuse to join them because we are simply not in the same mental mood. As of now, I'm not very joyful or sorrowful; despondent, maybe. I’ve noticed that despondence is the feeling I always get when my desires are not satisfied. Furthermore, I've noticed that I can’t have it all and that greed never engenders true satisfaction. So I calm my immense desires in respect to the realized limitations of my dreams.
As of now, however, I only want to say something profound. Maybe not a comment that will change the world’s worldview but something that’ll make you change postures while reading this. That hunky dory “Ah HA!” moment. I’m not sure what to say or where to start but I figure it I keep ushering out my thoughts on this phone that maybe something of that measure will arise. So I sit here... middle fingers, ring fingers, and pinky fingers interlocked while my index fingers are stabilizing my iPhone for unfettering abuse from my loquacious thumbs. I write and I write but my goal has yet to be accomplished. Maybe I shouldn't say naythin... For Grandma always taught me that “to say the least is to say the most.”
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What you say shawty?