I guess I want to truly write about the way my insides feel scattered around. The way my hands tremble at the silly thoughts lurking in the dark corners of my mind. I want to write about the way the sun feels on my skin or the way it looks pretty when I stretch my hand out and hold the light in my palm as it breaks through the window. I really want to write about how I can’t seem to come up with words to put my restless mind at ease, or gather the courage to find the pieces that make me feel as if I was born to do things and not just sit on the broken pavement of a busy street, watching the world twirl into many colors that only I could see. I guess I want to write about the way I can’t breathe on the weekend and sometimes on my favorite day of the week. I want to write about the way it feels as if I have a plug stuck somewhere in the middle of my body. I wish to write when my heart gathers the courage to grow some wings, except it’s not flying. I want to write about the way the leaves look pretty being part of the tree, and about how those scattered on the grass below are a reminder that life is a constant change. I want to write about what I see and feel when my mind registers my favorite construction of life in another body. I want to run so fast I forget what it feels to have legs because suddenly I’m flying. I want to cry at the slight mention of an overwhelming emotion and laugh when it gets too much to contain. I want to lend my eyes to the blind and let them see the way the sun cracks through the branches, and the way someone breaks into a smile after seeing Love. I wish to lend my ears to the deaf so they can hear the way sleep sounds and the way birds sing at midnight, or the way 5 am is the sound of air and stillness as if the world is taking a breath before the silence fills with laughter. In my heart, I want to fall into the void and ask it questions. I want to write about the way it feels like I’m drowning in an ocean, and I’m so close to the shore but the tied loves me too much to let go. I’d wish to write about the way it feels to be alive, but the words stop at the tips of my fingers as if to say that their job is not to be felt, but be scribbles on paper and simple conversations.
I’m just a girl with a frightened heart stuck in a life that I’m confused in, trying to make sense of thoughts and the never ending circle of time.
If I could be ink, I’d never stop spilling from someone’s fingers.
As long as I live, I’ll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing. I’ll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm, and the avalanche. I’ll acquaint myself with the glaciers and wild gardens, and get as near the heart of the world as I can.” -John Muir
I am currently a college student. I enjoy creative writing and love to do research for fun. I especially love creating mouth-watering food and watch for people’s reactions as they try it. The best thing about keeping a blog is reading the comments people leave. It inspires me and keeps me going. I thank you.
Go and explore,
live a little.
Love and Light,