Today I Wrote

Today I wrote something beautiful. I was filled with inspiration, and the perfect words flowed from my fingertips, like honey on a sunny day. My heart did not pound with existential dread, wondering when I would be struck with a creative spark. I did not pace or fidget. I did not curl up into a blanket and question if my writing was worth anything at all. I did not feel my temples pulsate with angst or yearning. I did not feel the quiver of my breath while sighing in defeat, oh no.

Today I wrote something beautiful. I did not have writers block. I did not lack any sort of insight, and my vocabulary was impeccable, every word came out perfectly polished, with no hestitation. The sentences practically built themselves, into an indestructible tower, the architecture was divine. I did not ponder the meaninglessness of life. I did not pause to criticize my foolish dreams.

Today I wrote something beautiful.

This is not it.

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