Writing

What to do when writing comes to a halt? Die.

If there’s ever air in my lungs, I’ll never stop writing. No matter how impossible it may feel to find the words to put together that add up to the inner expressions of my soul. That’s what writing is to me, exposing what I feel. From the deepest part of me to the obvious injury, it all comes to light when I write. I cannot hide me from myself. With each sentence I write, every paragraph that forms an essay, or stanza that is poetry, I get to know me a little more. I discover things that I like, people that I love and so much more. I almost want to say it’s my “Anti-Drug” but then again, writing has shown itself to be a drug to me. A drug that I can’t resist. A drug that I need. A drug that I depend on. An “I-need-a-quick-fix-someone-please-pass-me-my-pen” kind of drug. Only difference is, it’s absolutely free.

Writing gives me freedom. Being a writer makes me free. Free from being caged inside of myself. It grants me the liberty I need to express who I really am. So that’s how I find my freedom, how do you?