honeydunce

More than anything, I love the electric singe that occurs right under epidermis–heart to brain to feet to hands. Then words. I can never explain it, nor would I want to. When you are ready to create, you just know. When the words want to come, I just want to let them.

But there is nothing to be done when the urge comes at a time like right *now.* I’m at work; I’m supposed to be doing work things. I’ve been finding time to write during my 9 to 5 for years now, but the fact remains that the act feels stunted due to the environment. I cannot blast my music and get lost. I cannot shut the world out and, at the same time, let the entire thing in. I feel almost a little heart broken because at this instant I’m feeling it, I mean really feeling it. I just want to write. The opportunity will always rise again but to me, the moments are crucial…the instant I feel my veins flare neon–I have to, I must. Draft email templates and Word documents emailed to myself are best friends during the 8 hour work day. I try, I try. Ignore the stapler and binder clips to my left, the stack of filing to my right. I do what I can to get it down. I have to believe that it’s enough.