For the past few weeks or let's say months I have been busy with just being busy. Meaning I don't have anything productive to do but my time is all caught up with some BS one way or the other.
Honestly I wish I could just fly away from my f*ckn troubles but it's a decision that's very hard to make. I can't even fly away if I want to because what would I gain from running away when the almighty is on my side.
To shed more light on it(actually no light) imagine walking on a straight line then you get to a point where the road splits into two and you have no choice than to make a choice and follow your path.
Well, that's just for talks...in this case the road is paved in more than two paths. I can't even put a number to it right now because of how choosing one path might hinder you from exploring other options.
Don't try too hard to get the point, because you will only hurt yourself. Don't think too hard.
Writing about stuffs like this is tiring unlike just talking about random stuffs that comes to mind. Real life is really complicated and complex which makes writing about them more painful because you have to process and go thru all the emotions then put them into words.
It's like writing on a paper while it's rainy.
Both the pen and the book will suffer before you can pin down a letter talkless of a word. And that's if you're lucky enough to not tear the paper while applying too much pressure what you want to write.
Not everyone can write while it's rainy which is why we all prefer the sunny days because nothing is holding you down except you. But when nature itself is not working in your favor and you still want to keep on writing on rainy days then you need to make sure you thread carefully without trying to rush or be too fast with your moves.
I'm sure soon enough the sun 🌞 will come up and it'll be much easier to pen down every hidden emotional ink that's left in this tiny pen of mine.
Interestingly, this doesn’t seem like the writer found it tiring to pen this down. Mmm, I feel you though. I think that feeling is a global pandemic at the moment. Everyone is busy except that others are actually busy busy doing productive stuff. Either way, all busy is still busy, I think
You might be right. I'm think the writer is not tired to pen things down with words. But rather, he's tired to reveal exactly how he feels with words because words alone can't convey how he feels while writing in the rain.