My life's moments reside within folded curls, gnarling the surface of my brain. Each moment holds an ocean of turbulent memories as they crash against each other, then break into waves seeking form and fashion. Yet, I cannot direct their force without inspiration, so their purpose sinks into oblivion.
Without guidance from the heart, what inspiration do mere words instill? They are but superfluous groupings of letters, yet they could convey the life within our dreams when carefully chosen. Please help me guide these ships into the welcoming ports where others feed their imaginations on the inspiration those journeys might provide.
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