Odacavahserf

When the day ends, my mind turns not to rest but to stories; worlds of ink and choice that feel briefly important. I treat them with undue seriousness, searching for meaning I know may not be there. Still, they offer comfort, escape, and feeling. To delve in the minds not yet thought. Whether they change me or simply pass the time, I return to them, giving each my full attention, and stewing in reminiscence before I begin again.