Release
They Hurt.
They hurt. The words are built up and they need release.
Your thoughts need to pour out on the page. There’s no room. The page is full.
You erase. Write. Erase. Re-write. Erase. And finally settle on forgetting the idea. It hurts.
It feels like you can’t breathe. It bothers you for days. You feel like a failure. You need to get the words out.
They start to flow. Slowly at first, like a dry waterfall that finally receives rain. Then they all crash down on you. Millions of words.
You try to catch them. You try to save them all. You try to keep them all in your memory. You’re writing fast.
The notebook is almost full. The last page is filled up. You feel complete. You’re able to breathe. The fresh air soothes your aching head. You’ve succeeded.
Your thoughts need to pour out on the page. There’s no room. The page is full.
You erase. Write. Erase. Re-write. Erase. And finally settle on forgetting the idea. It hurts.
It feels like you can’t breathe. It bothers you for days. You feel like a failure. You need to get the words out.
They start to flow. Slowly at first, like a dry waterfall that finally receives rain. Then they all crash down on you. Millions of words.
You try to catch them. You try to save them all. You try to keep them all in your memory. You’re writing fast.
The notebook is almost full. The last page is filled up. You feel complete. You’re able to breathe. The fresh air soothes your aching head. You’ve succeeded.