Once was a wandering lamb, now am a shepherded sheep.
Since YAA 2014/2015, story ideas and characters have flooded the waiting room recess of my mind.

A dark tunnel leading to a light-flooded entrance, time and again I’ve tried to ferry across these characters, past the abyss of self-doubt, rushed deadlines, the hidden monsters that lay in wait.

Desolate Impasse.
Perhaps it was the flickering passion that fueled these writings, or maybe it was that I had squandered away much of the valuable fuel that drove these boats— time.

Writing is a means I express myself, where spoken word may fail to penetrate the inner hearts and thoughts of others, perhaps written they will reach further.
Metamorphosis.

NaNoWriMo is a tradition I’ve picked up since end of 2014, but while I may not have been able to finish what I’ve started, many more characters such as these, are constantly, always waiting, changing, developing.

All that, in the waiting room in my mind, anticipating the day that the vault doors open, when the fallout is all but memories faded away, when the lines between reality and fiction fade away to nothingness.

Like snowflakes, like our short human lives.
˜Cheng Wen Qi.