I am a writer. I know this to be true because when words flow, I am flying. But the words don’t always come; stuck on the tip of my tongue, partially formed ideas float away on the next ebb of a brainwave. Sometimes I can’t hear myself think because all I can hear is everything I’m thinking all at once. Half-formed sentences spin off in all directions, suspended in the word soup of my brain. I grasp for them, but they are repelled by a reverse magnetic force, drifting off into an abyss from where I cannot retrieve them.
by Hannah Dryden
Hannah Elisabeth Dryden is a writer from Oxford, England. She is immersed in words both as a writer of poetry and short fiction, as well as in her day job as a digital content designer.
photo by Pixabay