Photo by Stefano Pollio on Unsplash
Writing in the midst of my own personal chaos seems far more easy than writing by the serenading seas... Far from a war path, more a form of temporary escapism from the now...
A new path forward beckons, a leaf is turned... The ink in the pen slowly depleting of its ability to write... How long will this last? Only the future holds such evidence... But for now, there is now, and no one is promised tomorrow. It is all a big game of probability, and remember, the longer you play, the house eventually always wins...
We are nothing but shadows waiting to fade...
About the Creator
Armand Slayer
Since fifteen, writing has been my quiet companion. Words, to me, preserve fleeting moments, question certainty, and reveal what often goes unspoken. Every sentence is a journey into memory, emotion, and what it means to be human.
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