I got my homework (post) done early so that I could have the evening to myself.
I cooked and I cleaned.
I organized myself for the week.
And when the ‘me time’ finally came to sit on the couch and watch TV, I didn’t want to.
Something pulled me here, to this computer.
To this keyboard.
To where I feel most at peace.
The evening is for words.
And my brain is buzzing with so many that they cannot be typed fast enough.
But what will become of them all?
What will become of this storm of words?
Will they drive me mad?
Almost all my dreams involve me writing something down.
And when I wake up in the night, streams of sentences paint my thoughts.
They are incoherent and fragmented.
But they are coming to me fast and furiously.
And during the day, I get flashes of scenes that I want to explore.
I want to sit and watch them unfold.
I want to write them.
It has resulted in a very scrambled and tired mind.