words are all what remains when everything else deserts me..Words are my soothing power when I'm devastated by fear and distraught with grief.I juste write...I want my fingers to speed across an empty slate filling it with passion,colours and figures..It is not madness , sadness or gladness that makes me write these things.. It is just some crazy thoughts that keep haunting me every night and there is no way to escape them, no way to ignore them...I just write..My life is not a particularly interesting one, my struggles not particularly unique. And yet, there is something here, something inside of me driving me forward...Only words will set me free...Only words will raise me up...I am still here and words are still flowing...I don't write because I mean anything..my words may seem lifeless, insipid, void, dull...I write because when i write I catch those lost moments of time..moments we missed to cherich...We don’t treasure those tiny moments of time where the only thing that should matter is that single blade of grass, or that lover's shy glance, or that wave breaking gently on the shore....I write because I am godless, naked and alone, tired and sad, frightened, terrible and thirsty...I am still pregnant with words..My labour and delivery shall come in due time...
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