Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth?
Yeah me neither, half the time I’m pretty sure I’m living in constant autopilot.
But I want to write, I want to feel the words escape me, like the books I read and touch you.
Maybe make you laugh.
Maybe make you think.
Maybe connect with you.
Maybe make you closer.
Maybe my way to find my own bearings.
When I remember my youth.
I didn’t understand the world, don’t understand it now but I got the just.
Pay your bills, get a job, etc.
In a cycle of awe my account reflect so much while holding I won’t say it.
Often my own account laughs at me.
So many hours drained, and this is the reward?
With writing I have only 1 expectation.
Maybe more will follow.
For now, my fellow reader may my words water growth of inspiration to you.
To my fellow writer’s may I not butcher the way and expression of word so.
For we are the music makers, the dreamers of the dream, now stop licking the walls, this ain’t Willy Wonka chocolate factory of horror.