Moving on. I think what I love most about writing is the organization it provides. I can be overwhelmed by a thousand million different thoughts chaotically bouncing around in my head, yet once I begin writing, the tangled mess suddenly becomes an unwinding spool of thread that has a beginning and slides smoothly to the next thought, and then the story or paper or blog post takes over and writes itself, and all I must do is let my fingers move over the keys. It is a fantastic feeling.
Just wanted to post a quick little verse I constructed out of my homesickness when I first got to school:
I miss black on gold-brown and flaxen on red-gold
I miss a narrow stripe and a white star
I miss pricked black ears and pinned red ones
I miss soft brown eyes and wide copper ones
I miss quiet breathing and loud snorts
I miss gentle muzzles and swishing tails
I miss the crunch of carrots and the smell of hay
I miss manes that catch tears and comforting nuzzles.
Have a fabulous weekend, everyone!
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