RandomGeekKidd

You're giving up? What? No. Look at you. You're young. You're scared. Why are you so scared? Stop being paralyzed. Stop swallowing your words. Stop caring what other people think. Create what you want. Stop caring what others think about your art. It's yours not theirs. Don't let them tell you how to make it. Don't listen to the critics. Listen to your muses. Listen to your inspirations. Thank your supporters. Take risks. Never give up. Live. Love. Stop waiting.

She could clearly hear raindrops crashing into her windowsill. That didn't matter. The words on her cell phone didn't matter. Nothing matter, except getting away. The run down the stairs and out the door had her heart running its own race in her ribcage. Her converses plopped in a puddle, sending fresh rain up her calf. The rational part of her mind knew that running away wasn't going to solve anything. It couldn't change the past for that matter. Nothing could change the past. Forgiving, hoping, praying, regretting, running, crying, nothing could change the fact that he was gone forever. Nothing she could do now. If only she came home soon

Who am I you ask? I was a muse. I was the centerpiece of some of your projects. Now I am forgotten. You found me in a cluttered cupboard years ago. You fell in love, claimed me, and filled me with buttons, beads, and ribbons. Over the years I was filled with frogs, crickets, lighting bugs, grass, dirt, sand, stones, buttons, beads, ribbons, water, glitter, paper. You even tried to grow a potato in me that one time. Now I have various pens and pencils in me. The wired sharpener, and some of its shavings, and a weird, dirty eraser. Do you give up? I thought so. You give up so easily these days. What happened to you? You were so happy, so