So, the time
has come, you’re finally home.
You’ve been waiting all day for some peace and quiet. Just you and your laptop. You open the file, that same file that is tormenting you for so long. But it’s a sweet feeling because you love that pain and desperation of the story you’re writing. You love the unanswered questions: how, when, who, how but most of all you love to answer them, to move closer to the end. Two words become two sentences, and then your hands don’t move fast enough to catch your thoughts, your ideas and the sudden inspirational wave that consumed you.
You’ve been waiting all day for some peace and quiet. Just you and your laptop. You open the file, that same file that is tormenting you for so long. But it’s a sweet feeling because you love that pain and desperation of the story you’re writing. You love the unanswered questions: how, when, who, how but most of all you love to answer them, to move closer to the end. Two words become two sentences, and then your hands don’t move fast enough to catch your thoughts, your ideas and the sudden inspirational wave that consumed you.
You’re
finally there, you’re bleeding, giving a part of your soul to your story.
But where
are you?
