Some days like today I’m struck with this urge to organise: everything must have its place and a place for everything. These are the days the house gets rid of massive amount of “junk” wherein any little thing whose existence in the house can’t be justified gets thrown into the trash. Days later I’ll sit trying in vain to recall where I placed my laundry receipt or how the grocery list suddenly disappeared.
Papers lay strewn around me, bleeding ink. Battle wounds formed from wars that lost its vigour half way through. Some of these papers have stains on them from coffee spilt as hand dashed to keep up with the minds narrative. If you look close, you’ll see blotches on the ink as sweat and tears left their scars. Sometimes when the devil pays visit in those lonely nights when ideas cease to flow leaving behind a graveyard of possibilities, these leaves rustle –beckoning. Sometimes Continue reading “Drafts”