Ode to Storytelling

Words on paper

Encoded in imagery

Or even noise

Filtered through eyes

Ears

Minds

 

Quiet

Or loud

Without ever making a sound

Cacophonous in my head

A din that drowns out

Everything

Else

 

A programmer

Encoding ideas

Thoughts

Dreams

Onto paper

Which is read by the audience

And felt in turn

A wave

Which travels miles

A medium where anyone

Can feel heard

Felt

Appreciated

 

A medium where I can

Create new skins

And walk around in them

And understand

Where I can form new places

New worlds

Universes

In my little pocket dimension

And play around in them

No restraints

 

Explore ideas

That were impossible to think before

Because my corner of the world is so small

 

The meaning of my pages

Is so infinitely disproportionate to their size

As to be utterly ridiculous

Those fictitious worlds

Seem so real

 

It feels

LIBERATING


Author’s Notes:

Wrote this back in March and I have no idea why I didn’t post it.  And yes, I know this isn’t really an ode.  But… Whatever.  Who cares!  I don’t know…

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