I try to think of what to write,
and nothing comes my way.
What you will read are thoughts
not entirely thought out.
Enjoy.
I notice patterns I've formed
over years of coming into my own.
What I lean on to distract is
nothing more than silly facts.
This, that, and the next thing
doesn't help me focus on what
matters. I sway out of stories
of continuation, not born from
my mind. I sit and wonder why.
The internet is my enemy when
I need to focus. I go down
different rabbit holes of
google, twitter, and instagram
searching for anything. Movies,
television shows, song choices,
whatever perked my interest
will become a momentary
obsession of distraction. I
make stories in my head that
will never be formed into words
on a page. Certain stories aren't
meant to be known by anyone but me.
They aren't good enough. My mind
plays around with stories. I'm
writing one now, a story of my own,
born in my thoughts, written on
pages. I've been working on it for
almost two months. I know where I
want it to end and I'm not even
close. It's exciting, though. To
make a character come to life and
write what happens on a journey
of her own. So far, I like it.
Maybe one day you will read it.
And you will wonder if it was
the story I'm writing about now.
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