I dream that one day I can have a place to call my "writing place." That perhaps one day I can go on my own solitary "writecation".
Where I can find myself sitting somewhere, outside, overlooking the beach with my earphones, a laptop (bottle of wine optional); my happy writing place. The place where there is no word drought.
I dream to have my own place on the beach not so far away where I can go and sit and write, day and night, all day all night, whenever I want or never. But never isn't an option because that's all I feel at the beach, words running through my veins like the life that runs through me.
Sure people are looking at me weird sitting on the veranda with my laptop near the beach with my headphones on listening to The Edge of Glory. I'm sure they're thinking I'm glued to my laptop. That I can't get away from work for one minute. And how pathetic that must be and how lucky they are that they can just disconnect and frolic in the pool below me. But to me, it's the opposite.
The laptop is my instrument and on it I play. I draw, I erase, I dream, I imagine, I pour.
Maybe one day I can play it all for them too and they'll read my words and love them but right now I am like a karaoke writer and my it's only my good friends who get to see me play. Whether or not they're good words, they come and watch me play anyway because they like me.
I'm ok with that.
Sometimes my thoughts get too deep and I think about how one day I will die and my words will stop and that makes me sad.
Where will I put them then?
And who will get hear them?
Will they be like a tree falling in the forest?
All the words that were meant to get out will have nowhere to go. All the things I promised to say.
I hope there are pens in heaven. And paper too, with lines on it (and if i can be picky, not the wide ones, I prefer the college-ruled) so I can fill up notebooks in heaven.
Maybe God will get to read my words and He'll edit my work with his giant red pen and I'll be thankful that He made me a better writer.
But until that day comes I'll steal moments here and there and bring my laptop to the beach to get the words out.
Just in case Heaven doesn't have any pens.
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Where is your writing happy place?