Writer’s Curse


I claw and I scrape and I hit furiously; scribbling the fleeting momentary human description of life that formed in my silly little mind. It escapes perfection each time; leaving me only more engulfed in finding the perfect combination of words to capture the fleeting emotion that is a human, the fleeting light that is a soul. Yet I fail and fail horribly. For life is an unwritten thing that cannot be told to others, you must live it, breathe it, be it, to see how a human lives. You must see the light to understand the magic that is a soul. I cannot pen it for you now or ever.