I seem to find it so much easier to arrange my thoughts as I write them down. Seeing them living in the familiar shapes of letters on a page, rather than the fleeting flashes of lost thoughts and past conversations that dance through my mind. Hidden glimpses of forgotten dreams. They escape every time I try to grasp them, like trying to catch tiny moths in a meadow... like catching butterflies.
Yet butterflies live to be free, to tumble through the summer air, peaceful yet so alive. This is how I wish my thoughts to be. To be free. To be alive.
And so I write them on this page, rearranging a muddled mind. Catching butterflies and setting them free.
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