Faces, places, erases

I literally just deleted an entire post because it was paragraphs of words that said nothing. Not one useful or meaningful sentence in the entire thing.

I can be way too demanding of myself.

That said, I’m catching my breath after the galaxy-spanning-breakneck-speed-dance that was this past week.

I need to get more sleep.

That’s probably not going to happen for a little while.

I need to write.

I’ve been completely useless as a novelist this week. Sad, since I’m bursting with ideas that I’m simply too tired to write down.

I keep dreaming of the TGV. I find myself missing France. I’m not quite sure what the dream means but the gist is somehow fairly clear; signposts pop up in my subconscious and then there’s you.

I want to talk about you. I want to write down all the things my heart tells my mind when I think about you.

It always comes out as gibberish. It’s as though I simply lack the vocabulary to describe any of the things that run through me everytime I see your face.

I wish I could explain the way you just walked right through the walls I had constructed.

I think that someday, somehow I’ll learn that language.

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