And that's when your mind starts to put words together and if done correctly or if you're lucky enough, something creative might just be born.
I'm getting lazy with my blog, writing less, but my mind has yet to rest in reciting words. I hate it that I'm losing the will to put a few words when I actually love it.
When melancholy creeps into me, I used to write more. It's therapeutic for me, it soothes me silently and it's the place where I dwell in.
Somehow, I felt like I'm wrecking myself up. Throwing myself into a
Or I simply couldn't let myself go.? Am I addicted in giving myself some pressure.? But what if I overdose myself.? Unconsciously.?
Why is it always the hardest to deal with yourself.?
It appears that, I've changed, or simply grown.? For better or worse.? I'd like to know very much myself. And who would kindly tell me.?
Myself, or you.?