Recklessness
There’s an inevitability to it.
This is what I do now - sit and listen to my soul. There’s no one in the dark holding a blade to my throat. I don’t need sharp objects to puncture the underbelly containing my being. I’m already bleeding. Can’t you tell? Life flows out of me on to this page and all over my work, which no longer is the thing I want to do, but rather the very thing my soul bids me to do. I once thought without words I am nothing. Now I know absolutely there aren’t enough words, not enough sounds, to describe this life. So why do I bother writing? In such recklessness I come alive.
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- The Invitation · November 28‹ CultsRelax ›