Sunday, October 31, 2010
I find myself mesmerized by chain of beautiful words that have no meaning. Eyes hovering over words that make my mind giddy with pronunciations. Run off sentences gallivanting into unknown galaxies and memories that only the writer can remember . What happened to me the reader? Do you think the words are all I need? What about the dense hollow emotions that need to be filtered into my chest with verbs and shifted elements? Perhaps writing is not always about precision but rather the ability to paint your soul onto a sheet of paper. So here you go - paint your soul all you want. But remember that my soul is a stranger to yours
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