DEAR VOID,

Friday, August 14, 2015


This is a piece that I wrote about a week ago in a pretty journal with my freehand. It is thoughtless writing, so feel free to ignore this post altogether. But, I felt like this sort of writing lovely to read when one needs to clear their mind

I am a writer. I feel it in my soul, in my innermost being. Until recently, I had no real comprehension of the power of the written word and the message it can convey. In all honesty, when I feel led to have a meaningful conversation with a person, I wish I could have a chance to write out every word that escapes my lips. In realistic dialogue, two persons stumble over their words, filling their pauses with "umm's" and "like's." I am, indeed, an extremely guilty party in this deficiency of speech which fuels my passion for writing.  

At present, I am writing for absolutely no reason whatsoever except to fulfil my longing to hold a beautiful journal and fill its pages with my script. I find this sort of composition to be the most pleasurable to scribe simply because I have the privilege to put words on paper concerning myself not with what the next sentence may bring. No stress about revealing too much or too little of the plot. No concern about relating a great scientist's discoveries correctly. No care whether or not the reader will even enjoy the piece! {I have yet to decide if this piece will engage a reader.} What I am doing is simply writing. 

Thoughts flutter inside my head like colourful butterflies with the stories of my life written on their wings. Most of my thoughts escape the lead of my pencil. I prefer this sort of writing to be thoughtless. I do apologize if my mindlessness is dull to read, but there has been a longing inside me to write in this manner for quite some time now. Again, my memories are escaping like water spilling through my fingers. To write them is to relive them. And, as much as I long to relate them to you, dear reader {for I have decided that you do exist}, I do not believe myself to be emotionally prepared for such an adventurous feat. 

And now, if I may close with a quote from the most poetic movie ever filmed,

"Goodnight, dear void."




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