Sometimes I pluck them from thin air. Sometimes I weight them carefully. Sometimes they roll around in my head for days, weeks even, just waiting for the right time to spill out through my fingers onto the screen of my computer.
Some words never leave my head. They stay there, forgotten, because I have moved on from whatever moment they were chosen for. Sometimes I think I have already written them down, recorded them here, when in fact I haven't.
Sometimes no words come. I try to pull them from me but I pull out nothing instead.
Sometimes I wonder if it matters. These words in my head or on the screen in front of me. These black lines against a white background.
What do they mean to me? What do they mean to you?
Sometimes I wish I could read my words outloud to you instead of having them echo only in your head. Do you pause where I would pause? Do you hear my sarcasm or my smiles?
These words help me to tell my stories. Sometimes I feel like choosing them, writing them, changing them, loving them, hating them, is also my story.