Life journal 23
If I really think about it, I notice that I have never actually found any satisfied answer.
Why do I write?
May it be to express my feelings ?
For relaxation ?
Or just for fun ?
I used to think that the reason was because I could escape from reality when I wrote, which was also true in some cases.
But I always feel that there is something more…
I only write when inspiration strikes me. That would be either when I’m truly contented or deep in sorrow. The special case being somewhere in the middle of those two feelings, the thin line between sane and depression, but then that’s mostly when I could write at my best. It’s not exactly a good habit to maintain, I suppose. But no matter how much I try, I still cannot do anything about it.
So I just consider it as a candle light for my never-ending nightmare.
Every time I write, it lights up and with its dimming light, casts away the darkness, little by little.
And I think that’s why I write.
To empty my darkness.
And to give it light, even if it’s the thinnest ray…
[ Cover image belongs to the rightful artist. ]