Some days, when I begin to fill the page, I do not know where the words will take me. I allow them to simply flow out of me like rain from the sky blotting up the white space.

Other days, I begin with a vision, a story, or a goal in mind.

Still other days, I have a story in mind that I think I am going to tell. . . yet the words take on a life of their own that journeys me into an unexpected place.

Then there are the days where my time fills up. When I wonder why I made this commitment to myself to begin with.

Nevertheless, I am fully committed to self-discovery through the lexicon of my mind unfolding itself onto paper that is not paper.

I wonder if the art of pen and pencil onto parchment would elicit a different string of letters then those you are now reading. If the pace and speed of my mind would slow by reverting back to the tools of my youth.

If I abandoned the speedy thumb movement of texting to handwritten notes, would the physical cadence of the pen stroke give more of me into my word selection?

Would the words take me away into a world of their own as quickly?

I do believe that I sometimes move to fast and juggle to many thoughts, ideas, activities in my mind at once.

In my youth, my poetry and prose were painfully handwritten on school lined paper with edits by red pen. Every rewrite meant a new page and an old one crinkled up into a basket to be shamefully destroyed.

Back then, did the words take on a life of their own seemingly without the force of my will behind them as they occasionally do now?

I do not remember. I am not the me of then. I do not wish to be that me. Technology has changed me.  I prefer to use this page that is not really a page. I prefer to type without always knowing what words will be chosen by my hands next.

I love the click click click of my fast-moving fingers knowing that it means that are creating. That I am becoming a maker of stories.

The me who wrote poetry and prose with pen and paper used words to hide myself. Now I use words to reveal myself.

I love thinking of myself as a writer who is ready to speak my story. I am committed because I want to make that happen. I want to write.

We are all stories in the end.

346 Days to go.

#OTR50

~~~~~~~~~~