In this moment my heart races, as well as my mind, for I’ve never done this.
I’m not a writer. I never have been and I never will be. This is nothing more than a collection of my thoughts, for they are far too many, to keep suspended in the vacuum of my mind.
They come. They go. Some make themselves comfortable. Others float on without a passing glance. Some are deeply profound, riddled with glimpses of greatest, while others are no more thought out than those of a pubescent boy. But despite all of these differences they have one thing in common.
They do not wait.
Instead, they forge valiantly into the darkness with no regard, as if there were any to begin with. Instead, they wonder the depths of the soul that no others would dare, curious, as if there were any reason not to be. Instead, they move forward, with nothing more than a spec of self generated mystique.
These thoughts comprise everything that is uniquely us. Every detail that encompasses the presence of your mind. They permeate the eons, taunting, as if fear were a fool. They will never wait, which seems to beg the question.
Why do you?