The Violin 🎻

**side note**
Hahahah this has nothing related to peter pan

I write better than I think. Honestly, it opens up a world you can express yourself with. And if you’re lucky, your patient self will do a draft or two, edit it, and idk I guess make it more like literature?

Maybe that’s why Lit is a strong subject for me. Relating well, or making things relatable, or you know. A simple story is not what it seems. Behind it all it forms a secret meaning, almost like a clue.

And then a conclusion.
The conclusion should always close off all references.

And recently, ((okay I lied I do this all the time)) I’ve been up till 2 or 3 am. Either watching videos or just reading horrible fanfictions. And I guess I left my writer self in a corner for awhile.
Yea I write stories.
Yea they’re pretty amateur.
But you know. 2am doesnt seem to have alot of life in it.

So why not write?
Write about your day. Or what’s been bothering you the most.

Even if nothing’s bothering you, pick out something to reflect on.

Type it all out. Names can be included in. No one’s gonna see it for now.

And when you look back, you can see all your past doubts and all the worries and problems your poor past self has gone through, and heck it. You might even end up laughing an cringing how a love note could be that cheesy or ewwy gooey hahah.

And when you chance upon a well written piece, just copy and paste it out, rephrase it, take out all names, and maybe put it in a separate note?

That’s also another plus points for touchscreen phones with good note apps.

Well so… I found an old piece.. About how holding on isn’t as easy as it seems.

“Pulled a string? Like an old worned out violin. Pitchwise, it ain’t the best thing out there. But it still makes beautiful music. But then a string gets broken. You’re down to 3more strings. It isn’t the same, yet it still is. Just a string less. Day by day. One string at a time till you’re down to your last. The dilemma? To play on, or admire your already broken heart.

How’s that applied to life? We’re like this violin. No one’s perfect, hence, pitchless and different. We have our limitations, we show mercy and second chances. Break one string, We’re the same, but so different. We can’t make the same beautiful music, yet we still manage to, with some hope on the line. And the more you play with our “hopelines “… The numbers dwindle. 4…3…2…One.”

There might be loopholes there and then. But at least it can be used for future references and things to laugh at:)

Maybe the thing about 2am is that people spill their souls out to anyone who would want to listen.

Idk if its just me. But the beauty of it all is that I can finally write things that I’m too afraid to tell others, or you know..

Too afraid to tell myself.

I write better than I think. I hope.




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