The Heart Twirls

I am absolutely fascinated by people - alright; guys - who have a flair for the pen. Words flow out in the written form and arrange themselves on paper in such a way that they speak to the heart - catch it, pull it along with them on the journey that they form, and then release it to a world unknown. That is when the heart will have to look around and wonder where it is, because reality beckons. Reluctantly, the heart returns.

My words don't have the same power. Look at this:

"The world naps. I strut into waves of work and take a leisurely swim. TV at night seems especially sweet. Poetry is seductive and sultry. The night paints the air with a mist of magic.

When the world pulls down its curtains, and the town begins to slow its breathing, muses tiptoe out from behind clocks and do a little dance. As they do their little dances, they chorus a melody with words that cannot be heard. But the heart twirls, o the heart twirls"

Sorry to the person who may find this familiar =P

"Fascinated" does not equate to infatuation, I must first clarify. I am just glad to find a second blog which I can occasionally turn to for some inspiration. The weirdest (and perhaps, most natural in some ways) fact is that these two guys are Philosophy majors.

Okay, the first blog I visit occasionally is more sharp-witted. I shall not paste anything from it here or it may amount to plagiarism =P

Yes, the first one is already, but I can't say who this person is so, sorry to that person in advance =P

Back to work.