Red Room.

i'm confused.
a little bit lost even.
i walk around, seeing the bleak air wrapping around the world i am in,
and i don't know where i am.
i don't understand what i'm seeing.
and this feeling burrowed deep inside of my chest in unrelenting,
unknown and frightening.
but for some reason,
it doesn't feel unfamiliar.

when i think of people, i think of the world.
the connections.
the generations,
and the birth of new ones.

when i think of mystery, i think of the unexplained.
the unplanned.
the unexpected.

when i think of the past, i think of inconsistencies.
fragmented memories.
fading in the distance.
the new ones fogging up the old,
until they are dusty.
and unremembered.

when i think of the future, i think of stress.
of plans, of worry,
of expectations and disappointments.
yet also of wonder, wisdom,
and fate.

when i think of inspiration, i think of many things.
things that inspire me to do what i love.
people that make everything i create something of worth.
something of greatness.
something of value, yet not in terms of costs.

i could go on for miles and miles about what brings out the creativity in my craft.
about the people that bring out the best in me.
and the worst.
but that doesn't seem fair.
to describe people in the way they make you feel. to tell others who they are when you have no right to identify them. no right to express who they are,
when you yourself don't know who you are.

i started this post hopeful.
that i could just do something easily,
simple and un-meaningful.
but then i'd be a hypocrite to my own words.
that "all writing is beautiful."
that in my 'significant' opinion, everything a person writes down, or thinks about writing down has an impact.
but i honestly question my opinion.
hell, i question a lot of things.

but i don't ask myself why i fell towards fate.
i don't even doubt my mistakes, because i learn from them.
i don't regret my feelings,
because without them,
i'd be three years behind.

i'd have to guess that my inspiration comes from my experiences.
from the people i meet to the ground i walk on.
everything seemingly endless;
people.
environments.
in a simple sense, the living.

my inspiration comes from the living.
and to my surprise,
i'm part of that too.

this is where it all begins.
everything starts here, today.

with love and light,
eve morgan