Writing lends a voice to bustling thoughts inside. It breaths life to a world that resides in the depths of my imagination. It is like a petulant child that yearns for attention .It gives a pat on the backs of people who are at their lowest points. It speaks volumes without being eloquent. It is a shout to the world , to give notice to the little important things. I write with the desire to immortalize my thoughts, to etch them on to the world’s soul . It is me on paper, it is my heart that beats for all to see. It is my desire , my object of passion from which I do not want to part.
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My writing today is so very different from writings I HAD to do in school. I hated writing essays etc.
Now I write for fun and it is so much easier. I probably write nothing of worth … except to myself. I certainly wouldn’t want to try making a living from it. 🙂
I think it’s important we think about why we write. We don’t have to explain it to anyone except ourselves.-
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🙂
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Reblogged this on firstdraftpoet.
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