What's on my mind? It's hard to pin myself to paper, to pen myself to paper, in a forced manner, bound by fetters, but remember later, the resistance is better, the nurturing of my underside, written in fine lines, they are not wasted time. They are lifelines.
                     The letters are lifelines. The essence of my devotion. Moving in motion. Like the color of my pen, matches the color of the ocean, and the scribbles on the paper match the rhythm and the notion. I understand, it's understood, It's unavoidable but I'd avoid it when i could, escape it. Break loose. Unchain myself. free to wallow in the more comfortable chains i smelt.