It’s time for me not to hold back and let the creativity flow through my fingertips. I’ve got to release the creature inside of my mind, scratching inside begging to be released. I’ve got this story, hidden deep inside, but no matter how hard I look I cannot reach it. You might read this story and it might remind you of something you saw or heard long ago and a question will slowly form within you, burning, burning through your skin.
“Is this story true?”
“Did this really happen?”
Well, I can’t tell you if it is or if it isn’t. I’m just writing to keep myself busy; entertained; keeping myself from going insane. This isn’t a story for those who care or for those who don’t.
This isn’t a story for those who are bored or for those who are having too much fun. But as you keep reading along, your curiosity creeping along each letter, word, and punctuation mark forbids you from stopping.
This isn’t a story for those illiterate or for those who have excellent grammar.
This little muse inside of me just wants to explore the world until I grow bored again…
This is the story for those in the median, those who are normal. But are there really any normal, plain people in the world?
Like I said, I was bored.