“Italian Coffee Shop” by Georgia Love

When I write, it feels like I am pouring out my soul. Pouring out my heart and dreams into the words that grasp its meaning and tangibly hold them in place. It is untainted honesty. It is this passion I’ve held inside me for years. It is light and color and joy mixed into an undistinguishable shower swirling out of my fingertips. It spells out my joys, my confusion, my anger that comes with being human and somehow makes it beautiful. To me, it is perfection when those feelings that emanate in a confused and involuntary manner are coaxed into writing, caressed by the words that signify them. This is beauty.


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