If you don’t know what you’re doing then neither does your reader. Joining a writers group just to eat MariaElena’s amazing batch of guacamole does not a writer make. Unless you’re inspired by guac. In which case, carry on.
Forget what it looks like to reach out to someone because of what Twitter or FB says. Forget what it looks like to reach out in a revolutionary way to form a bridge. Forget what it looks like to just be your common self.
It’s #FiveMinuteFriday at Kate Motaung’s place. The word prompt is MORE. I’m not a prose kind of person at 4:00 a.m.
Insert chill ambiance set to a playlist of lyric-less hip hop songs, nearby an arsenal of books and a revolving wish list of required reading. In two hours, I will begin to ready myself for a one hour commute to my full-time job. I will listen to podcasts the entire drive there. I will park my car and jot down, in my bullet journal, all ideas that are still lingering around able to be captured on paper.
These things mark a fresh willingness to seek out new beginnings. They are proof of an understanding that it’s not too late to change, to rediscover truth, to try something new.
This is how you find me/open hands, gathering/vestiges of paper-thin soul/visible deep creases/I used to be a paper crane.
We need to get to the place where we can walk uncharted waters without the voice in our heads spreading doubt and confusion.