I just realized that right now we’re more than halfway through September already.
I hate when that happens.
It’s out of our hands, the flowing of time. The only thing we can do is enjoy it while we have it. Some choose to enjoy it while others choose to wish it passes through quickly. Time will be time.
As time relates to me, I specifically am wishing I could just write with whatever I have left in my day. I feel like it’s a privilege whenever I’m able and allowed to just focus on that task. I can’t tell you how often I’m somewhere and I think of something neat for a short story or a longer story and can’t indulge because something else requires my attention. I then, am able to just jot notes down and hope that the quality can carry itself until I’m able to focus on it- the idea, in its entirety.
I’m the only one able to make a name for myself. I’ll always bring my true self to the table whenever its time…
Just give me the time.