There is going to be nothing new in this post that you wouldn’t have felt, read, or heard before.
Skip reading it when you feel bored.
So, I was comprehending on the topic to blog next. I had so many muses, ideas, real incident-inspiration just grabbing me by my mind and pushing the energy to my thumb(you see, I always type my blog posts on my phone!) but…
But, I gave in to the conflict between ideas, finally decided to write about writing.
The most beautiful thing happened to me through a heartbreak.
Pain. Pain discovered the scribbler in me. You see, I can say I am a writer, but that would be a disgrace to the actual writers, so…
Yeah, now for most of us, pain has amazingly unfolded itself in the form of words.
How acutely it can describe your pain even you don’t have a profound vocabulary.
How it makes you turn even an inanimate object a subject of metaphor or a simile.
How gracefully it embraces reality with your desired imagination in a single piece of your work.
How it pushes you to eradicate the feelings that tried to swallow you to take shape in the curves and lines called letters and blend it with screens and papers.
Writing is an art they say. No, art is an output of a finesse, an activity of an adept person; an expert.
But writing, it is more than art to me. It is a form of salvation.
Salvation from all sorts of emotional chords that are too much for my heart and mind to handle. It is liberation. It is a mode where you can achieve complete freedom from ties of all 27 kinds of emotions.
When the reception is not well received by my body, writing comes to rescue. It saves me when my mind and mouth are not in a relationship and mind is free to make love to fingers!
I write about a lot of stuff. I may write stuff that may not target an agreeable audience but I’ll write still because writing is a part of me.
I intend to only write because I put writing above anything.
~ © 2017 Shruthi Jothsana ~