What is it you are waiting for?
Tell me what calls out your curiosity. Draw me a picture showing the texture. If the colour of it doesn't exist in your pencil box, sing it to me. Tear a wild gash through the fabric of this perfect dream.
Tear it up, throw the pieces into the wind and follow them like breadcrumbs scattered before a starving soul.
But whatever you do, tell me your story.
You'll never be ready; do it anyway.
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