It was noisy when I started bruising the blank paper before me, the pen bled but what came out was simply a piece of my heart, nonsense. The words were rather incoherent so I dove deep into my sea of thoughts and looked through the chaos that was inside of me. I started pouring out my thoughts into the blank canvas, pieces of my soul adorning every space of it but I didn't stop there. I kept pouring everything out until it was a dripping mess. Frustrated, I grasped everything and attempted to put them in order. It was tedious, quite painful as I tried to rearrange the essence of my life, a few tears were shed. Until I stopped and looked at it, deluged with passion. 

The once convoluted mess, turned out to be a beautiful yet crazy piece of art. 

It has become quiet since then. 


as you can see, i'm a person who loves writing a little too much. once my heart stops fluttering at the thought of writing, that might as well be my first death.