Choose any sentence. Then begin to write.
My vision was blurred. My small, dry, cracked hand
I slowly picked up the pencil with the best
Precision I could manage
But the pressure of being in front of him
Made my fingers open up causing the pencil
To drop on the wood table.
I tried my best to close myself off.
I didn’t want to hear him sigh in disappointment.
But he didn’t.
I repeated the slow and painful process
For close to the tenth time, but now
I felt like I could do it.
Slowly, I lowered my writing utensil
Down onto the scratchy and dry paper to write.
I paused on the paper not knowing what to say.
Again, he said, choose any sentence.
Then begin to write.
Those words still ring in my ears
Twenty years later, and I long to be back
In that room with the roaring fireplace
And the towering bookshelves.
I remember what I wrote, although
Parts of me wish I didn’t. I was only seven,
And my childish brain longed to be poetic
Even though, truly, it wasn’t. I had heard someone
Say it before and it was the first thing that came to my
Brain, though it meant nothing to me.
It is my favorite line to use and the fact that I wasted it
On such a foolish attempt disheartens me. I wrote:
I feel that I am trapped in a box and too afraid to find the key.
This was something that I believed sounded nice
But I now realize that I was just trying to sound
Above my age. People had always told me that I was
Smart, talented, and gifted. But I never told people
That those talents was not original. I was not the one
Coming up with these things, I was not the person
Who I told people I was.
Surely, I did have wings, but they were meant
To fly other places. My wings were being trapped in this
Box of deception, and the key was in front of me.
But I couldn’t escape; what if I leaped out
Into the great unknown and everything ended?
This line, I believe, now encompasses my life.
The voices inside that were once a faint mumble
Are now growing into a deafening
Cacophony that kills me everyday.
When I was young, I was foolish enough to
Believe that it did encompass my life then.
But it didn’t. I had everything and I didn’t realize it.
And still the question remains. What if I believe
That this line represents my life now and it
Doesn’t? What if everything gets worse?
Is it possible for the ashes of a burning
Building to light once again?
But right now, my only
Solution is to
Choose any sentence.
Then begin. To. Write.