I have found my quiet place to write. I've gone for the last two weeks after leaving work. I feel inspired there... and peaceful. There's something about this spot that moves me. Maybe it's because it's late at night, I am a night owl and am most creative in the dark with just the shallow gleam of a street lamp and a tiny, clip on book-light to aid my sight . Maybe it's because the sounds of a train stimulates my brain. Maybe it's because I am a COMPLETE FREAK OF NATURE.
(Don't worry. I lock my doors and carry a giant package of WHOOP ASS in my right fist.)
As for a pen.... the ones that DID humble me when I held them in my hand, I used 'til they were dry. I kept them though. Just the thought of them keeps me humble no matter what I'm writing with.
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