I had many attempts to write before revealing it. But, somehow, each time I dropped it. I couldn’t put my thoughts together. I used to write only in my most terrible moments. Nonetheless, I didn’t see it the way I do now; I was unable to let it drive me; I didn’t have the correct approach to its benefits. Now I understand the right moment for it has come. I just needed to wait… And I’m not going to let it slide again! Keeps my dreams alive…
What is writing to me? Pure joy, the utmost cure, my complete relief. My writings know every little bit of me. All my down lows and all my attempts to be strong; my true self; all my likes, all crushes, my weak knees, trembling hands and pounding heart…all naked emotions; the spaces I would fill your name with; the things I dislike and all my anger, my frustrations and greatest wishes. My writings witness and wipe my tears, salute my happiness, expose my thorns and reveal my healing power; my most deeply buried things going on in my head; my views concerning everything around and beyond me and all of us. Whoever wants to know me, will definitely achieve that by reading my writings…
Not every article should have a place in here. Some are just for me – anonymously embracing my lonely moments. Those will never be exposed. And I can’t name a feeling to correctly enough describe what’s within me when I write. It’s that only thing (besides music – always music!) that helps me calm down. Whenever I feel the need to punch someone in the face (we’re all human, after all) I pick up my phone and rather be on my own. Drawing letters on white rows… Designing a passion.
I will always endlessly thank to the one suggesting me I should go for witting. This did change me, in so many ways! Writing means life to me, now. I can trust it not displaying more than I am willing to hand; and it doesn’t kill my heart, only makes it stronger.