Why do I write ?
Once upon a time, on the same planet we all live on, I came into existence. Wasn't really my choice but hey, it really isn't anyones. Like everyone else, I too stumbled through life. I’ve had my incredibly stupid moments, emotional breakdowns, happiest days of life and whatever else. I’ve always felt I could do more, be more. Not more in the sense of getting my life together but more in the way of feeling. My head is a weird place to survive in, not gonna lie, it's fifty different trains of thought, all running together, all leaving the station late and all of them narrowly avoiding each other. I'm talking extremely narrow here, a hair's breadth narrow. In this continuous cacophony of anxiety, dissociation, anger, sadness, curiosity and whatever else, there is one space. One space where when I look at a word, or a picture or feel something in a weirdly specific way and words align themselves into sentences in my head. Sentences that rhyme themselves in a poem. I swe...