Step one.
Open the top drawer of that dresser dad gave as a moving out present.
Step two.
Look for the keys. Yes, the one marked Yale. That tiny one.
Step three.
Under your bed, find that metal box you bought as your money safe.
Step four.
Open the box. Insert the key, twist, open the box.
Step five.
See all the memories and money you kept in. Find the notebook labeled “unsettling".
Step six.
Read everything you wrote. Read them until you remember. The exact moments, people, places, and feelings. Read every decisions. Read every mistakes. Read every regrets.
Step seven.
Feel everything. Feel the hate, love, indifference. Feel the feeling or the lack thereof.
Step eight.
Admit to yourself that everything is unsettling.
Step nine.
Return the journal. Lock the box.
Step ten.
Make tea. Drink it.
Step eleven.
Relax. Calm down.

It's settled.
You finally settled it.
There's something unsettling.

There is struggle in every beginning.
What to write in these blank pages?

We get stuck in every white space we see
We stop in every blank space
We stare
We try to start

Words don't come easy

We struggle for ideas
We fumble for words

The thought process stops.

Catharsis.

The ideas flood our brains
The ideas pour
The brain leaks of ideas
But we struggle for structure

For there is none in these blank pages, white spaces
There is none.

We try to achieve form and flow
But there are none
All we have are fragments
of thoughts
of words

It's a stacatto of ideas.

Without rhythm
Without melody
Without harmony
For there are none in these blank pages
There are none in these white spaces

The words
are just lines
are just dots
are just strokes
that will never make sense

In these white spaces
In these blank pages

This beautiful mess.