I’ve forgotten what it’s like,
To write about what I want to write about,
To let my mind wander,
And turn it into stories;
But I’m getting hints of the feelings I had,
Even if briefly,
And I just know itβ¦
Will all come flooding back and more;
There are whole universes of creation,
Bursting at the seams,
Untold histories and unseen wonders,
Dying to be told,
And brought into being;
Now I remember how it all happened.
Tell me more,
Grandadβ¦
πͺ
π»πππππ
π πΆπ πͺππππ πͺ 
π
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π€
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ππ
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This goes absolutely perfectly, thank you! π
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π
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Lovely. Reminds me of how Iβm starting to write again
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Cool! :). That’s great.
I don’t want to give the wrong impression, though. Whilst I am slightly more free now, I’m also referring to the freedom which I don’t even know yet, which I’ll attain when I’m in a good environment. So it’s hopeful but also yearning, requesting.
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“Iβve forgotten what itβs like,
To write about what I want to write about,”
Dayum Robin.
How do you always end up writing what I’m feeling or going through at almost always perfect time?
Amazing.
Sucha a simple, gorgeous and relatable piece. π
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Hey Megha,
Hahaha, that’s amazing. Though I’m sorry you’ve been struggling! It really helps knowing somebody could relate to what I said, it gives it all more meaning to have had those problems.
I guess it must be coincidence!
I hope you are doing ok. π
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I really really appreciate the comments and good words about the writing!
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