Writing is an instinct, that when performed publicly, bemuses, entices, and draws curiosity as to the machinations of the authors mind. A secretive hobby and disturbing to those who witness it.
Are the insights to a writers mind so intriguing as to bare humility, disgust from those that surround them. The writer may be inert, yet their minds are flying through a thousand adventures beyond the reality surrounding them. Complacent in being who they are, for those that ignore the writer, sadness awaits, as truly their soul is as empty as a blank book, and to be true, a blank book is all they'll ever be.
No comments:
Post a Comment