That Which Surrounds

Another wasted day as this year’s end draws near and my frustration at the chaos in which I find myself locked can no longer be expressed with words. I miss writing. My unwritten book weeps silently to me, calling to me at night. I’m not one who can just sit and write in any environment I happen to find myself. I need control. Until I have that again, my brain is a broken orchestra. So, here, take this. A thousand voices are only getting louder in my head and I… can’t.

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