Anne is a freelancer with a passion for writing and helping others by writing about important topics and issues.
The Art of Writing
If you are familiar with what we would call "prose", it is simply a collection of words in a paragraph form that have no particular plot. It's like a poem, but not like a poem. It is ideas all mushed together in paragraphs, dancing to the beat of their own drum. What I love about prose is the freedom it allows you as a writer. You don't have to follow a structured poetic form, you don't have to work with stanzas or rhyme or anything you don't want to; how you approach writing is up to you, it is like an art form, and I type of writing that I am constantly trying to master and improve. I find it to be extremely therapeutic.
The following three prose pieces I wrote are simply about nothing and everything at the same time. They don't follow a specific pattern, or idea, or even subject. They ramble on into infinity, marked only by the words they left behind. When I am writing prose, it is like writing poetry, only I feel like I get to make up more of the rules. I get to decide what is important. Prose is almost like this musical composition with words that I find to be lovely and mesmerizing in its own unique way. These pieces inspire me to think beyond words and pages and into the depths of my mind and my soul. I hope you enjoy these pieces, as I have cherished coming across these in an old notebook, and every time I read them again, I smile.
Sometimes, the hardest thing we can do is open the book, turn the page, and spill the contents of our hearts. To know that the world will be watching, waiting to see your words so carefully planned and etched out onto the page; words that may seem quite simple at first, but actually hold more meaning to you than you know. Words. Words about hope. Words about love. Words about loss. Words about sticking together. Words that flow from the ink of your pen into your veins, pumping blood into your heart, making you weak. So many words that race through your brain and give you a migraine and so many special things you could say, but only one way to say it. With words. With words that will carry you away from your troubles and fill your heart with joy. Words. So many words. Words that make you think. Words that make you smile. Words that open your heart. Words.
She wears her heart on her sleeve. She makes it well known where the blood flows, where the arteries attach and veins pump to deliver this feeling. These are her sleeves, these are her wishes, her dreams, her hopes. Everything she cares about so lovingly etched upon her arm. It only takes a few words for her to be able to say it. To muster up the courage, to find in herself the ways in which she may inspire others to do the same. To be brave, to stand up in the face of anxiety and just push through it, because you want to. Expression: that's the most challenging thing for some, but she wears her heart on her sleeve, not because she's broken easily, not because she begs to be seen, but because she has nothing to hide, she has no shame in her heart, nothing with which to keep her from being herself, and that is fine.
That's the only thing that matters.
Too Many Sentences
Sometimes it becomes too much. For someone, with so much, racing through my brain and into the creative mind. It becomes overwhelming. Every sentence must hold a certain meaning, must have character, must stick to your mind like a piece of old gum and never leave your side for an instant. A sentence should be bold, but at the same time mellow, a daring lullaby that comforts you to sleep, while also rushing life back into your soul. It should speak your language, with beats that match the rhythm of your heart. All good words, sentences, paragraphs, stories, and literature do this. It is never too much to be completely in love with a sentence.
© 2022 Anne Marie Carr