Writing is my life. It's my love, everything that I ever want to do everything that I see. I texturize it, embellish it, paint it with a paintbrush of black and white, letter after letter. It doesn't take much for the words to begin in my mind simply seconds after my eyes have opened in the morning. It doesn't take much to inspire but once it kicks in I could jump off my feet and fly. Take off into a story of a cancer patient falling in love and finding God. I could take off into the story of a tough relationship and heal it along a network of experiences together. I could play the harp with a muse and learn the secret key that David played to build the gates of heaven if such a story were to exist. But nothing is more inspiring to me than those people that I meet along the way.
They're all so different yet just the same. Their outer shells vary in so many degrees. The stars couldn't count the infinite number of differences there, but their hearts are as much the same as the wave's crashing against the shore. They're minds are different, their habits, hobbies, styles, tastes, as different as the shapes of clouds in the sky. They hurt, they bleed, they cry. But they're all so beautiful in their own way. It's not the face that makes the beauty, it's the heart, the personality, the core which is such a hard thing to capture with words. I could never dive into what makes someone who they are without distorting it and fading what it actually is to know and feel when you talk to them in person. Men and women, they're just the same. Created with a purpose and in an image that only few in the Bible could ever really describe, and they all capture what it means to be beautiful. It's imperfect. It has bumps and scratches so many countless mistakes but it's real and sometimes it takes those bumps to add an extra touch of wonder to the word: Beauty.