A brief entry to something I am writing, short stories of the tales we hardly hear about, plague us, cause us uncertainty, what it means to be human: Wretched souls bearing waste to paradise. Caught in perilous ventures that are filled with their emotions. What ails these frail beings filled with blood and weak bones?
I’ve found that a good portion of our lives is spent within our minds. Not a day goes by where we are not in our heads. We contemplate the world around us. The situations we face are fluttering around and caught by our emotions. We remain locked in what feels to be an eternal struggle,