It’s been so long since I last grabbed a pen that I am almost scared of it…
perhaps of what might come out…
it’s been easier to lock it in, swallow the key and laugh, make others laugh, you laugh…
But I still need to write in order to breathe although it is painful…
As I’ve written before, being a writer is dying every night and being reborn in the mornings, dreaming of a musical, writing about it and being in it, standing up in the end, clapping more than others as though that musical had been a gift, something made just for me…
Staring at the distance and feeling the need to smile even when everything is going wrong… when you miss who far away stayed or moments from which I will just be further away every second that passes by.
I have grabbed this pen with an empty mind but an overflowing heart that almost kept me from breathing.
I have so much to say and nothing.
I want to write the silent, spell feelings I have locked full of fear.
I just want a hug – cry of happiness and sadness at the same time…
Be in a far away fairy tale land in your eyes… or shut down all the lights and dance on my own in the dark…
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Life is a transition until your spot in the world has been found... Some stay where they were born... they never leave... they never wonder whether home is "there" indeed... Others, however, have to look for their place...
