Last Sunday of January, sad jazz and tears are on the menu. I let myself wallow in it,
I encourage it. I make sure I pull every heartstring I have, because I know my best writing is rarely from happy moments. Anger, pain, sadness, passion, where it gets raw and real; when I write from that deepest part of me, that’s when I am able to touch you. You feel with me. Today is a perfect day for writing.
I am listening to my favorite spoken word pieces and my eyes well up and I let the pain of those artists flow into my own. Writing about sunshine and rainbows just isn’t going to happen today. The real things, the stuff that scars us and scares us, these things let us know we’re still alive and keep my fingers moving across the keyboard.