There is a though in my head, and i cant grasp it.
It's drving me insane. I know i thought it once but now it escapes me.
There is a picture i once saw. It touched me inside my head. It made me write.
There is a word, is a sentences, is a story in my head. It aches to be told, it want to be written down.
And i cant write it, cause of that though that escapes me.
I feel ridicules. I want to write. I need ot write. This thing here, this journel, it eases the urge. But it is not the same.
All i want to do is write my stories. I know that i am no Cervantes, Proust or Pratchett. I only write for myself, only very few people read my stories. It is not much, but it is what i need to do.
I want to write about my heros. About Sideny Springs the underaged pyrokinetic who thinks it is her job to make the world a better place. About Sonya Imogene Nevada, the detective who gunned down her best friends and is now haunted by the ghosts of past and present.
Do i make sense? I dont know. Do i need to make sense? I guess not.
More later.
It's drving me insane. I know i thought it once but now it escapes me.
There is a picture i once saw. It touched me inside my head. It made me write.
There is a word, is a sentences, is a story in my head. It aches to be told, it want to be written down.
And i cant write it, cause of that though that escapes me.
I feel ridicules. I want to write. I need ot write. This thing here, this journel, it eases the urge. But it is not the same.
All i want to do is write my stories. I know that i am no Cervantes, Proust or Pratchett. I only write for myself, only very few people read my stories. It is not much, but it is what i need to do.
I want to write about my heros. About Sideny Springs the underaged pyrokinetic who thinks it is her job to make the world a better place. About Sonya Imogene Nevada, the detective who gunned down her best friends and is now haunted by the ghosts of past and present.
Do i make sense? I dont know. Do i need to make sense? I guess not.
More later.