The beauty of prose is flirting with emotions; evoking imagery, whole galaxies and foreign lives, all with a handful of letters recycled over and over again.
It's a subtle art - obvious when done right but repugnant when it falls short; like a smell you can't quite place, yet it turns your stomach nonetheless.
It is music for the heart, critical art for the mind, gastronomy for the soul.
YOU ARE READING
Musings of a Creative Mind
RandomSometimes I get these overwhelming thoughts that gnaw at me until I put pen to paper and they come out. I don't know where they belong, or which story they are a part of, only that they need to be expressed. This is a collection of these writings u...