...never to disappoint anyone but myself.
And lately when I come home and can't write out whatever it is that's been in my head on the ride home, I feel a sense of desolation completely disproportionate to reason. The very thought of all my tangled fancies slipping away before I have a chance to grab them and make them behave? Makes me want to cry.
How strange everything is.
And lately when I come home and can't write out whatever it is that's been in my head on the ride home, I feel a sense of desolation completely disproportionate to reason. The very thought of all my tangled fancies slipping away before I have a chance to grab them and make them behave? Makes me want to cry.
How strange everything is.
1 comment:
Scribble whatever you feel like. Sometimes the products of frustration are better than those of a calm, wanna-be-creative mind.
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