writing out loud
February 6, 2015 § 2 Comments
Lately I am lost between the narrative of my days and the story in my mind; words pressing against my thoughts as I work with a frantic serenity to gather them quickly into print.
All or nothing, it is a terrifying need that consumes and ignites sleepy places in my soul. I have never felt more still while the wheels of my distraction spin with reckless disregard for time.
I am both hungry and sated in my pleasure, terrified that this moment might pass and leave me in want of something I cannot fathom loosing.
Every moment is a contradiction as I disappear from familiar places in my day, more present in my own skin as my fingers transpire the secrets of my dreams.
scribblechic 
Perhaps a new story is finding its way to the surface…
I believe it is, Maurice.