Ink stains on fingertips, words pirouette on blank pages— A journey untold.
Letters stumble, then soar, across vast expanses of white, each stroke a tentative step, into the abyss of the unknown.
From scribbles of innocence to structured lines of clarity, mistakes become signposts, guiding through the maze of thought.
In the silence of creation, heart murmurs, mind weaves, writing is self-discovery, in the intricate tapestry of language, finding freedom, finding voice.
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