Just the moment that I have the time and strength to write, the words just escapes me. After the day has gone, I strafe into the night. Tired, exhausted…lying down to get a rest
Then I heard a tick in my head, like something is switched on. Floodgates of thoughts and mindful things are unleashed. It starts to spin itself into sentences…I can’t stop it. I began to tell stories and make up backgrounds from something I’ve seen and felt, and something I haven’t like real emotions and awareness of life put it into frames of characters…as weak and strong as I am.let her walk the Earth, live.
Later in the morning I have no memories of the lives I’ve led