When I Write, It Doesn’t Always Make Sense

I know, I’ve never been good at writing coherent stories or poems that make sense. But when I write, it’s always after a hurricane–of events, of thoughts, of emotions..

And I write as fast as I can because whatever comes out after the big explosion of emotions and life…whatever I write then, will be the rawest version of the story.

It’s the version that I may not understand at all. It’s the version I know came from heart and not from a pool of vocabulary to impress. It’s the version that is real.

The stories I write are incoherent. I know.

But how else do we ever fathom what happens in life than to write and write and write..

Until we see the constellations.

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