That Rhythm Uncommon
I'm what you would say in a constant cycle of "trying to figure myself out". When I am in that moment a lot of things begin to matter. Like, the amount of space I type in becomes suddenly overwhelming and the words shy away from my grasp. I'd like to write about the chirping birds that make me smile in the morning but that suddenly feels like too small of a story or too uncommon a rhyme. I am also not always aware of what I want to write about. Most often I just want to describe things like how people become angry or sad or happy. I like describing how dawn appears through my window over and over again. I like using the word rain a lot because using it in a sentence makes me say it out loud and the sound of it feels like rain itself. I like thinking about things over and over and turning them around in my mind to see if I can catch a glimpse of something else. I like making discoveries. Sometimes I delve into on...