Today i want to write. I feel as if there are so many things i want to write about... but when it comes down to the punch line, i cant think of anything. I am inspired by so many brilliant artists and i feel that i can't adopt my own style of writing; i always rely on their style. Yesterday i finished a book called "The book Theif". It was brilliant and tragic and true, it made me cry as i was standing next to an old tree in my backyard, and for a few moments i felt for the little girl in the story and death; death is the narrator of the story and i love the way that death is portrayed; it is not scary or evil, it is compassionate and is surprisingly jealous of us humans and the things we can do and the way we feel and love.

Sometimes i stand or sit and without words i watch the world around me and observe the nature of people and the way they adopt to everyone else instead of being their true selves; i came across a very true statement last night:


for now i will ponder this thought and be back at a later time to write some more.