Faint Whispers and Multa Paucis was actually born from this latin phrase which really impressed me.

Verba volant, scripta manent.

Which means 'Words fly away, writings remain.'
It's latin, btw.

I felt that it applies to what I always feel. That if I don't capture the particular subject of my attention, it will disappear, worthless. Like one moment, and it's lost forever. Like empty promises on fibbing lips. Like faint whispers in the night.

So if I could capture that moment, in any way, it will remain with me, at least for a while.

That's the allure of the written word for me. It allows me to bring the image to mind, and let it sink in for a moment, before moving on to the next scene. The printed black against white paper leaves no grey area for arguement. Set in stone, never to be corrected. A sense of security, perhaps, to be able to convey a multitude of ideas in writing. To say much in a few words. Multa Paucis.

(~```~)

Shouldn't I have more freedom, now that I am of age?
Why do I feel like I'm more trapped than ever?

How could you do that?
I wouldn't, if I were you.
Should I?

(~```~)

Idc. I'm going to push the boundaries, and taste the forbidden fruit. Up, Up and Away