There is something so therapeutic about writing. Just writing...anything. On paper you can do anything, become anyone you want to or remain the way you are without anyone hating that. On a bad day, I write. No tears. No fights. Just words. And they come pouring out, like they want to be there. Like they belong there. They're filled with all the emotions I keep stored up. Sometimes I reserve such emotions so that later I can go and type them into a story. Sounds pathetic but it's actually a better use of emotion. I believe that if serial killers or depressed people slitting their wrists would just sit down and write for a bit, they might reach a better place than the one they are in. This is because there's no identity when you write- no names or race or gender or sexual orientation because what your words are is what You are then. In stories and poems everything can be perfect and nobody will doubt you or disgrace you. You're free then, for those fleetingly few minuets or hours, you are completely free to be....you. Penning down real feelings so that you don't have to suppress them or fight them. Entering a new world when the real one seems too complicated. That's the magic of writing.
It's the reason why I, personally, started this blog. I didn't crave or expect any followers. Of course I LIKE having people read my thoughts and words, in fact I even love that. But just having a forum to write is one of the best things that has happened to me. Someday I wish I can do more than just help myself with this. I wish my words can help someone who needs it. The only problem is, I don't know how to do that. Reading good blogs really clears my head so I'm just going to try to not write too many crappy posts.
Until my ink dries and computer crashes, I'll keep trying with the faith of my words. We'll see how it goes from there on.
