Thoughts come to you for a reason. Each discarded moment represents a seed for potential, You let it go so it can replant itself behind your eyes, sprouting before you and reaching fruition only at the peak of its maturity. A flash of an Idea, fleeting and bright, bursting forth only as you decide to relinquish the tension between mind and hand and let the words over flow out of your soul and into the pristine cleanliness that is an open page. We were born to think, we were born to write. 


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