I enjoy writing as much as I enjoy reading. But it’s been ages since I last wrote stuff that means so much to me. For me, it’s like a drug, that keeps me sane. Despite it not making sense sometimes. Writing is what makes me think I am capable and that I’m able express how I feel when I can’t express it verbally. It helped me through many phases of life I’ve had been so far. And I’m just truly thankful of how much I am able to write.
Writing, I reckon, would be similar to many since it has become an outlet that lets one express their feelings, their emotions, their opinions about the things around them. Writing brings out the creativity and it somehow organises one’s cluttered mind into thinking clearly. It somewhat lifts of a weight that exist out of nowhere inside one’s chest. I think I am able to survive because of it.
Without writing as a thing I do, I wouldn’t know where or how I’ll be able to cope up with everything. I admit that there are thoughts in my head that are plainly abstract and even when I try to simplify them I can’t since it isn’t my expertise.
I wish I can keep writing until I no longer can.