Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
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Rated: E · Essay · Opinion · #832799
My take on writing.
Why do I write? Why do you breathe? It's a need. Simple as that. Oh, I wish it was that simple. Because truthfully, it's never really that simple. Simplicity simply doesn't exist in the world of writing. I would love to be able to believe in simplicity. My need to write has grown in the past year. Maybe I'm addicted. All I know is I have to do it for my own-well being. Because without it, I don't know what I would do.

Writing, to me, makes my world melt away. It takes me to other worlds. Worlds I, myself, create. Sometimes they're seemingly perfect. Sometimes they're seemingly imperfect. But even all of the imperfections make them perfect to me. Why? Because they're my creations. My fantasies. My ideas. They're mine. Simply that and nothing more. Oh, but it means so much more to me. It's my light. My darkness. My fears. My breath...my entire being. I put my every essence into what I write.

To me, writing is about expressing doubts. Fears. Excitements. It's about feeling and growing and loving and hating. It's about testing and tasting and kissing and molding. It's the light, it's the dark. It's the glow it's the shadows. Just give me one moment and I will capture all of that on the same page. Because I take the time to capture the moments. To paint the moments. My only paint being the ink in my pen or the energy in my fingertips. The beauty. The ugly. The greed. The love. The hate. That's all I need for inspiration.

It's everything I need. Everything I breathe. Everything I want and so much more. I can taste the words. I can feel the words. I need the words. I'm dependent on them. I believe in all the places writing takes me. I couldn't live without it. I love writing. I loathe writing. I need writing. I need it to simply be. Because simply, it's who I am. And who I'll never be. It makes me whole. It makes me feel empty. Brings me lonliness. Brings me tears of happines. Tears of joy. Tears of sadness. Tears of anger. Tears of love. Tears of hate.

I want it. I need it. I can feel it even after I close my eyes. I dream about it. I trust it. It binds me to reality while at the same time letting me drift into fantasy. It holds me content. It ensures me. It provides me with everything nothing else can. I need it. I depend on it. I trust it. Everywhere it takes me is exactly where I want to be.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/832799