Okay, since i believe i am going to be my own audience, I can actually rant out what's within me without the fear of being judged- as a person or because of my writing skills. No, I don't claim to a very good writer but I don't think I'm half as bad for my age. I think I stopped writing because I lost access to my previous blog - which was a rather disappointment, I tell you, and then college started and there was this air of laziness around me that didn't let me do anything productive. Just hanging about - forgetting to eat, because i spent my money shopping or on hukkah. Well, not so much of the latter, but shopping yes. Also there was a new boyfriend that made me feel happy and good about myself that I forgot that my first love is nothing but this skill of writing that I have been bestowed with. So I guess, I might be in love with this man, but my dream of staying alone with a dog in a house on the hills with a warm cup of coffee is still very much in the back of my mind.
And guess will always be.
I think, since I haven't scribbled down in a long time, I was losing my ambition. But since the night my best friend made me realize something so important, I know that this is the only way I'm really happy. And something was nothing but the truth that writing is what comes naturally to me- to keep me happy, to express myself, to bring my attention to my own problems - it is writing what always has been a healer to me. In any form- whether it was an unfinished novel that I would write, or love letters to a boy who I never really gave my heart to. My heart has always been in the act of writing - the sound the pen makes when you write what comes to your mind, the way words spill onto the pages in a fluid movement, the smell of the ink on a fresh sheet of paper, the touch of that new sheet..everything about just the act of writing is so meaningful to me. And if you love just the simple act so much, it is obvious that words flow out involuntarily.
So this blog is not about how much I love someone else, or how life is not perfect for me. Those are secondary things but what this blog really is about is me and how much I love myself. Or i'm going to.
And guess will always be.
I think, since I haven't scribbled down in a long time, I was losing my ambition. But since the night my best friend made me realize something so important, I know that this is the only way I'm really happy. And something was nothing but the truth that writing is what comes naturally to me- to keep me happy, to express myself, to bring my attention to my own problems - it is writing what always has been a healer to me. In any form- whether it was an unfinished novel that I would write, or love letters to a boy who I never really gave my heart to. My heart has always been in the act of writing - the sound the pen makes when you write what comes to your mind, the way words spill onto the pages in a fluid movement, the smell of the ink on a fresh sheet of paper, the touch of that new sheet..everything about just the act of writing is so meaningful to me. And if you love just the simple act so much, it is obvious that words flow out involuntarily.
So this blog is not about how much I love someone else, or how life is not perfect for me. Those are secondary things but what this blog really is about is me and how much I love myself. Or i'm going to.
