Sep 22, 2011

How?

How can you possibly know?


How could you possibly understand what it is like to have all these thoughts?


The feeling of inability, the inability to express what you know would be fantastic if you could only get it out.

The constant, unyielding desperation that only knowing how can inspire.

Not comprehending anything else except the voices in their thousands greeting you, reminding you, turning you to a different perspective you did not think was reachable.  Urging you.

The utmost sadness that swells up gradually from that small space inside of you when you see the others who think they know how. 

But they can never know how like you know how.  Because they have never heard your voices, nor seen what you have seen through their eyes, they cannot tread and trip down the same pathway as you and discover what you know is wondrous.  Because you know how.


How could you know?


How could you possibly understand what it is like to have all these thoughts?



This is what it means to be a writer.
Jaq xx
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