Fickle weather. Searingly hot. Bitterly cold. Talk. Topics of conversation when shallowness is needed.
There are uncomfortable times in life when shallowness screams to be heard. Say something.
There are times when words have no meaning. Thoughts are useless. Allowing silence invites dread.
Say something.
Say anything.
“Fickle weather.”
Author: Jana Horton
I write to soothe my soul. I empty my words onto napkins, scraps of paper, receipts... anything really. When I was very young my mom told me to stop writing on my hand.
I never did.
I write on it to this day.
I’ve lost so many scraps of Self on soggy napkins; I’ve yet to lose my hand.
The words I scribble there may wash off, but since they are inscribed in my soul, once they are released, from heart to hand, I am allowed to let them go.
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