I want to write an interisting article or a story . In this blog where am going to post a piece of literary mastery, but all I have is a dictionary to help make up my handicapped creativity . As words flow like an electric current wired from my mental faculty but it dies as my mind withdraws to insufficiency.In the shadow of self-doubt .I want to pour my heart out ,but it seems my words runs shallow and superficial.
I am writing a piece ,a parcel of my thoughts wishing that every words I wield in this draft that I craft will make one’s mark to my readers’ heart.
But hard as i could in this journey that I choose ,where knowledge, creativity and perception is a measure of success .I wish i can find a foothold to soar like a pretty butterfly in the garden of roses.Where words is a key to unlock all mystery of an extroverted mind like me.
My blood runs like an ink to my pen that bounces life to the pages of this blog that comes from this restless mind. As the words flows like blood spreading in this pages creating visions poured out from an impregnated ability .The powers of words will make or break you like a broken dam, when patterns and rules are violated.
I want to write words of reflections on the pages of misconceptions,or a word of inspiration to warm a heart filled with desperation .To explore and motivate the world of hate into compassion and arouse stimulation .Would I write about a lesson of life’s reflection ,a word of influence to incite deeper knowledge and revelations o n the ground of day-to-day living.Sometimes , in the breach of my inefficiency .I want to gather all the words and deep knowledge of the world .So that I will not juggle and struggle with words in this creative piece of article that took time for me to finish.My pen is my precious treasures with whom I can’t live without managed to keep me on the right tract when everything turns abstract.
If a man begins with certainties,he shall end in doubts.,but if he will be content to begin with doubts ,he shall end in certainties (Francis Bacon)