I miss eating apples… Seeing this gif always makes me miss their sweet tartness and juicy flesh that always makes that nice crisp sound when you puncture the neck of it.
I have a confession, I think my mind likes to toy with me a lot when I write. I hear many voices but no one seems to be around. I’m a haunted house of my own, with many secrets hidden inside.
You’ll probably get lost in the labyrinth of my mind, there’s only a one way ticket in but no exit out. Someone once said that when you go into a writer’s head, that you’ll find a lot of messed up and strange things. I’m the grand library of strange and foreign, toiling away at my desk and writing things that don’t make sense.
But there’s this obsession, that I need to keep writing or I won’t be able to breathe. It’s a crazy thing, where the lines of sanity blur with insanity. It’s a habit, it’s a type of drug, if I am not able to type or write, I feel the withdrawal deep in my bones.
Shaken not stirred, the fine threads of reality are blurred. For the voices in my head demand to speak, if they stay unspoken, they will fill me up to the brim for weeks.