Write Something. Anything?

 The hardest part of writing is always beginning. My brain goes, what do I write about? and suddenly everything feels too big or too small. But then again, I think that’s the point of this prompt. To just write something, anything, without worrying if it’s neat or perfect. So here I am. Writing something(clicks tongue). The rain outside hasn’t stopped since last night. I can hear it hitting the zinc roof like it has a grudge. There’s comfort in its persistence, though. It feels like the sky is also freewriting, line after line of water, no edits, no punctuation, just flow but I’m scared if it persists, there will be a flood and I hate floods.  I glance up at the ceiling, there’s a crack that I swear wasn’t this wide last month. Maybe it’s been there all along, and I just started noticing. Or maybe things really do expand when you ignore them, things like cracks, problems and silence. My mind drifts back to the conversation with my mom which I also wrote about days ago. We were gossiping as usual, then she went quiet and asked a question that made my heart stop for a second. The question lodged itself in me because it’s strange hearing your mother wonder if she’s too late for her own dreams. I think about it often after that day, how much we give up, how much time steals from us and how we try to make peace with it. And maybe that’s why writing matters. Maybe that’s why this silly little prompt matters. Because sometimes you just need a space to put things down. Anything. Be it heat waves, rain, cracks or questions that scare you. Writing something is a way of saying I was here. I noticed this. I felt this. So yes, this is me, writing something. It may not be neat, it may not be beautiful, but it’s real. And maybe, for today, that’s enough. XoXo.🌸 ^{[img1](https://pixabay.com/photos/notebook-notes-pen-writing-diary-1840276/) [img2](https://pixabay.com/photos/typewriter-writing-text-writer-old-5260665/)}