Putting pen to paper, in a feverish attempt to catch the fish swimming around in his head. His keys are never far from the desk by his bed.

NOTICE: Do not pick up hitch hikers. Detention facility in area.

Burnt feet across sun heated rocks. No sandals to be found...his face contorts in pain. Could the past, present, and future all take place at the same time?!! We have been here before. Together we have passed under this bridge before. Lately you've been showing a nasty habit for weird lateral thinking...keep a sharp eye and ear. Don't let panic cause irrational behavior, take things in stride accept your fear. It's really not a bad thing unless it gets out of the fence. Running amuck, making things all tense. Bravery is being afraid, but doing what you need to do anyway... there's going to be fear. You don't need to worry about it. You're not in control. He is. ☝️✝️

I get so depressed at times I feel like I can't take it, and I'm going to just ***** up my life. And then have to pick it all up, and eat it again.

In moments of quiet, pen becomes my guide,  
With ink I trace the thoughts that softly flow,  
Each line a truth that I can now confide,  
In written form, my inner voice can grow.  

The page, a canvas where my heart takes flight,  
In verse I find a language known and dear,  
A structure formed, to shape my dreams in light,  
An accepted frame that draws my vision clear.  

To weave my stories in a rhythmic dance,  
Is freedom found within the written word,  
In every sentence, there's a second chance,  
To paint my soul where only silence was heard.  

So let me write, for here I truly stand,  
With every phrase, carved by my own hand.
In desperate hope that some others understand, that the importance of words is surprisingly grand.