13 April 2012

Nothing beats the feeling of holding a book full of your own work, freshly finished.

Be it a sketchbook, a notebook, a diary, a manuscript or even a workbook.

Nothing beats that feeling of satisfaction.

I remember the first time I filled up a workbook at school when I was probably only 8 years old or so. It was my English Language school book and I was so proud of it.

I found it again last night for the first time in years, and I still felt that warm satisfaction when I turned the last page.

Even now, when I fill a notebook, I like to hold it between my palms for a moment.

Run my thumb along the worn, dog-eared pages.

Hear the creak of the broken spine.

Feel the weight of all my words.

PneumothoraxThe Weight Of Your Words • Opuss № I