Thoughts on writing in general

A soft, warm, gentle breeze is blowing stray strands of hair across my face.


Languidly I brush them back as I gaze at the blinking cursor.


I am in no hurry.


I am here, in the moment, allowing the words to flow from my thoughts to my fingers.

I am alone in my existential existence, savouring each delicious discovery

Each word folding itself onto the screen.

Each thought made alive, by the simple fact that it is written.


There is nowhere else I want to be.


But here.


Now.