After a certain point, it’s hard to find the words and pick out what i’m trying to say. Too many times I struggle as my head aches from words floating and bumping into each other—unorganized and being tangled into a knot so nothing really makes sense when I try to make out the words in explanation. I’ve written down so many words and so endless stories; the sleepless nights just laying in the dark when all the sudden changes start and the flow of words begins. 

I entered that term of where so many thoughts were stored and that creativity pushed words and pieces together into a big picture. Now everything seems foggy and the peripherals have a hard time adjusting, making my mind irritated just staring at blurry sceneries and ideas. The retrospective of compiled pieces doesn’t seem as satisfying when i’m placed in the same position and going no where.

At first I felt sure about where it was all going, but a reassurance needs to be made or at least regain some sort of motivation and inspiration.