Do you really wish to know what’s hiding behind the person who’s holding a pen and starts writing? While that question is subjective, I believe there is a certain matching point to everyone who finds serenity in writing.
” How did you think of that? How is it, to be a writer? ”
One of the hardest explanations you’ll ever do in your life, is describing your own passion.
Words cannot fully describe how does it really feel like, when my hand reaches for the pen to start writing. Writing is a way of living. It’s like having emotions in your veins, visuals, stories, characters and the right amount of cynicism in order to survive in a world where sensitivity is considered a weakness.
It’s like an eternal itch that comes from within; you don’t just simply touch a pen and a special unicorn comes and sprays you with rainbow dust and just like that, you start writing. Nope. That would be too cute and too ideal.
Writers have multiple dimensions inside them. Characters that need to survive, to flourish, to die, to be born or reborn, ideas, utopia, eternity. Imagine that, as a world. Dealing with two different worlds can sometimes be hard as heck. It’s the sweetest and yet the most acceptable madness I’ve ever experienced, that’s why it’s painfully beautiful.
<< It took losing everything I ever wanted, to know what true freedom is… >>
Writing is the shelter of imagination and creativity. A shelter between an endless fight; logic and emotion. And every single time, logic loses the fight and raw emotion takes over. When that fight reaches its peak, you feel utterly addicted to the pen in front of you. Writing starts without you realizing it, you’re lost in your own world where the pen is your compass and the ink is your soul’s blood.
You let the compass guide you, like a mysterious journey, you have no idea where you are going to land but you don’t care, you keep going. And when you stop, you feel redemption, the ultimate freedom, because finally, that chaos of emotions formed into words which surprisingly, have meaning, faces, life.
For a mere moment, you feel like you’ve given everything you had. You stand there, looking at the paper and the words and you feel like what you wrote, stares back at you, like someone you knew but never met before.
Writing gives you the power to fly, to live life twice.
You can imagine how hard it must be sometimes, to land on planet earth, if you are able to live life, twice. Wouldn’t change anything about this bizarre feeling though, it’s like a secret super power! 😀
Even now as I write, I feel like words cannot fully grasp the actual meaning of what writing feels to me. All I know is that I can’t wait for the next time I’m going to reach for my pen.~