A Place In Your Heart

No distractions. Just the blinking of a line on a page; hungry for the ideas which haven't yet formed inside my head. Seemingly waiting for some inspiration to take hold of me so that it can skim across the page, recording my thoughts.

My day wasn't the best I've ever had. I've got so accustomed to writing essays that I could diverge all of these reasons and analyse them all so that I could write a detailed conclusion but I really don't like doing that so, in short: My fears were confirmed today but it didn't hurt me as much as I thought it would, but I think this was because it was the truth that I had unconsciously accepted. I have also come to a realisation that, when I play my flute, it sounds beautiful. Beauty has a direct connection to the heart. Whatever you find beautiful holds a place in you and there is little that will make you loose sight of that love of beauty.

Beauty.