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It seems like everyday I have been thinking way too much. I am always in deep thought, but you know what's weird? I could never tell you what I am thinking about because I just don't know. There are so many things that fly through my mind and it would take decades to sort them all out. Late at night I feel inspired to write poems, stories, or just nice flowing sentences even. As soon as I drive somewhere at night and see the lights and hear the sounds and see the steam rising from the pavement my creative clock starts ticking. By morning it's as if the battery has run out. I feel all this nervous energy inside that just needs to come out in the form of a masterpiece and I have no time to let it out. I miss all the writing I used to do--regardless if it was bad or not. Maybe sometime soon when I have a night to kill I will just go crazy. I love blank notebooks because they have an endless amount of potential. I will sit and look at a blank page and just take it in like a piece of art work. I imagine everything that could possible inhabit that page--paintings, doodles, poems, song lyrics, collages, charcoal, pastel, pen, pencil, marker--the possibilities are endless. I have so many ideas and so few feel worthy of that page of potential. I love seeing the potential in things and I hate to see that go to waste. This means I have been saving all my blank notebooks for brilliant works to just flow out of my brain. I know in reality that doesn't happen often. Maybe one day something extraordinary will come of this mind...until then I will continue to imagine the possibilities and hopefully make some time to try to write a bit...or as Mr. Parcel calls says: "Let your pen run like a wild pony on the paper..."