Water. Fire. Black. White.

I want to write. Write what's in my soul, without anything stopping or censuring me. But I don't know about what.
I feel that words fail every time I try to project them on the paper.
Empty words, without connection, are being formed in my mind. And no matter how many attempts I do, no matter how hard I try, they won't fit. They are the opposite of each other.

Water. Fire. Black. White. Dark. Light. Tall. Short.
Opposed as everything in this life.
Everything's sensitive, unnoticeable. So cold, getting colder. Just without connection. So barely spoken.
Nothing makes sense.

And here I am. Lost, rambling in secret and obscure thoughts, never spoken before.
Difficult to understand? Difficult is trying to write when our minds go around and around and around, trying to find themselves and getting lost more and more.

Difficult is to find our path.