When I write, my mind is closed to all inputs from the real world. I write to fill in the void inside of me, to compensate for the loneliness. Those words living here are the bits and pieces of my mind and my sentences mirror my heart.
I write hoping to be read. I know that those fragments of memories made up of words and punctuations might forever live inside of you, and that is why sentences are eternally forming inside of my mind, to finally be born through a melodious drumming of my keyboard. Yes, writing is selfish. The writer is both the father and the mother, who hopes for the world to see his or her children.
1 comment:
Hmmm...Just wanted to tel u tht i think u really need to b with sm1 Bcoz u seem very much like a loner who needs to talk and blurt things out.Anyway u have an excellent writting style,keep it up!
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