Creativity641

Together, sitting, writing, talking.

Sharing dreams for the future.

Hoping we'll still be friends years from now, when we don't see each nearly every day.

Finding hope can be hard sometimes, in this world where people are trodden on with little thought, and certainly no apologies. 

But I still try. 

Every day. 

I could ramble on all day about the ethics of all the things our country’s done. 

But I won’t. 

Instead I’ll say this one thing: it’s going to happen again. 

Walking home alone.

She spots a man nearby.

He whistles, shouts a lewd comment.

She tries to ignore him at first.

He yells again.

She calls back, laughing nervously, "Maybe another time!"

He doesn't listen.

I write longhand.

Journal, pencil, print.

Letters melding together in a harmony on the page.

Graphite scratching the paper, pencil sharpening every 5 minutes.

Lined paper, perfect for doodles and random thoughts.