I have always loved to write. My poetry is a quick testimony of that fact. I think I have way too many opinions to not be a writer, in some ways.
Lately, I have been overcome with something passionate. I am seriously overwhelmed with this thing. It is like someone lit a bonfire inside me that was there, smoldering, but never really burning. I am burning now, though! Burning like a million freaking candles have come to consume my brain and light my entire soul.
It is like discovering the secret to yourself in one sudden go. I have walked such a long and painful path this year. I chose the path certainly, but damn I wish I had known it would take so long! Confronting shadow parts of yourself always feel very toothy and painful.
I think I am emerging from the shadows now. There is this light before me, and I am kinda surprised by the fact that it was walking next to me the whole time.
Is it weird to react to something you just wrote, as if you read it instead? I am seriously excited! I just neatly tied together three or four story threads in one go and they came together like they had been meant to be written that way all along. Only, I know damned well they hadn’t because I just wrote it.
I have never in my life felt like jumping up and down over happiness to do with something so simple as an idea and a dream.
Oh my goodness! So this is what being a writer is like.