I miss writing. This used to be my outlet. Everything could be turned into a poem, a song, a feeling, a story. Every object in the house, every person you see walk by, every natural disaster and common emotion had a story that was on the tip of my tongue and needed to fall out.
Lately, I hold those feelings back, not because I don't want them, not because I can't have them. But because I don't allow myself the time to think about them. That is going to change. I miss the feeling of writing and knowing that I captured an absolute truth about something very few have seen. Knowing I have portrayed something that could be life changing, irreversible and un-describable.
Today that changes. Today I begin again to carry notebooks for random fumings and a piece of paper with a random concept. Today is the day I bring back my passion and my meaning in life. I go back to my quotes and find the stories lost inside them. Today is the day I remind myself that the reason we speak, the reason I exist is to bring the ordinary its fifteen minutes at extraordinary.
