Blank then black

Juiced out... Why? I do not know either. Or I am too mindless to bother knowing why.

Looking for a space again. To write, to ponder upon things. So here I am, finding my place in the middle of a crowd.

No, I won't call this a crowd. They're my colleagues. The people in this group. Companions is a better term for them.

We are here in this place for something important. And while the session has not yet started, I brought out my pen to write in my notebook. Newly bought from the school's bookstore.

And my sheet goes from blank to black. It should be, for I am in the mood.

While the one on my left side ceases talking to me, and while the one on my right gets busy with her stuff, I continue to write.

I may be juiced out, by there is always a different part of my brain to squeeze. Or it might just be out of habit.

I have been doing this for years now. It was an awesome experience writing the first few times. As I go on, I get to the other curves and a lot of lessons are being learned.

It becomes sweeter as time passes by. Sometimes bitter, sometimes sour. But there is always something to write about.

So every time, my sheet goes from blank to black. And I feel thankful each time that happens. I always forgive myself when I slack off.