Swallowing Knives, Crying Arrows

Had it been a while when you first wrote your thoughts in a diary or maybe a journal that you swore to write your everyday thoughts on? What did it first feel like when you finished a hundred word entry? Was it the feeling of satisfaction? Accomplishment? Calmness? Or like ocean waves collectively chaotic?

Maybe it was the same for everyone, maybe it was peace of mind, collective calmness. Or maybe it was painful, like swallowing knives while crying arrows. It might have been the biggest battle they had with themselves, trying to piece every idea and thought together. Maybe it was the sense of needing to have your thoughts full in one sentence. Maybe it was broken thoughts and ideas in every word you wrote. Nevertheless, you wrote.