Start of a novel
So hanging out last night with my friends made me really sad. I can't explain why exactly, but I felt like breaking down into tears. Sigh... Anyway, instead of letting myself cry or whine or act pathetic over it all, I've decided to channel my energy into constructive use. So I took all the emotions and thoughts I had and started writing. I have an intro to a story. I don't know what it's going to be able just yet, but it's a start... here's what I have so far:
As improbable as some hopes might be, just the mere fact that they exist in the first place may be enough. Deep inside, logical thought supercedes emotions. But everywhere else, the outer psyche is consumed by faith in the unexpected.
A gentle nudge, a coincidental run in, facilitated progression mistaken for fate, an ambiguous comment is only fuel to drive. The motives that direct idealistic ambition are as pure as the dawn’s first rays, inspiring unyielding potential.
Vision clouded with rosy reveries evoke “what if’s” and “maybe’s” and “perhaps’” and “who knows.” Conscious thought can be overwhelmed with dreamer’s plight, the constant yearning for the impossibles, the longing for the almost possibles.
What passion possesses a lover’s soul? Where the heck does it come from? What force conduces his utterances and beliefs? What makes him this way?
People forget that the heart is the seat of humanity
As improbable as some hopes might be, just the mere fact that they exist in the first place may be enough. Deep inside, logical thought supercedes emotions. But everywhere else, the outer psyche is consumed by faith in the unexpected.
A gentle nudge, a coincidental run in, facilitated progression mistaken for fate, an ambiguous comment is only fuel to drive. The motives that direct idealistic ambition are as pure as the dawn’s first rays, inspiring unyielding potential.
Vision clouded with rosy reveries evoke “what if’s” and “maybe’s” and “perhaps’” and “who knows.” Conscious thought can be overwhelmed with dreamer’s plight, the constant yearning for the impossibles, the longing for the almost possibles.
What passion possesses a lover’s soul? Where the heck does it come from? What force conduces his utterances and beliefs? What makes him this way?
People forget that the heart is the seat of humanity
posted by Muniba at Friday, May 06, 2005
2 Comments:
I love it! Keep it up! If you've already taken finals, I hope you did well. If not, good luck. I finished mine yesterday and I'm being lazy for the first time in 4 months. I want a signed copy of the book before it hits the bestseller list.
Hey, I second that!
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