I write to ignite frightened minds and remind them of the might they might be inclined to find inside the confines of life interwined with divine vibes and sublime rhymes propeling lives to rise and thrive. I write because words are magic and sentences are spells, and the thought of underutilizing ourselves is tragic so I feel frantic to go savage and ring some chilling bells. I write because letters are elements, words are molecules, and paragraphs are the means to create worlds forming books upon shelves. I write because I can.
I write for the same reason that I read.
To discover worlds vast as the stars and intricate as the mind.
To live a thousand lives and see a thousand views.
Mind expanding and exploring, shooting over worlds, delving into cultures both real and imagined.
To push the limits of my own imagination, or express the raw senses of reality.
I like too see as far beyond, or as deep inside as I can go.
The written word, is just my medium to get there.
Why I Write
I love how you can express yourself with writing, molding and twisting words to craft something that could impact millions. What starts with a single scrawled sentence could turn into something so much more. Writing opens doorways that used to be sealed tightly, allowing you to explore new things with your words leading the way, a flashlight illuminating the pathway to the future. Words are the most powerful weapon that humanity has in our arsenal, despite the fact that not everyone can use them. I write because I am lucky to be a part of that legacy, because I am lucky to have the privilege of expression through my writing when others do not and I believe I should use that to the fullest extent of my ability, that all writers should, so we can work to change the future and allow everyone the freedom of expression. I write for hope and for freedom, because I hope others get to experience the freedom that comes with writing even though they currently cannot. I dream of the future because I am able to, a future where we all get to experience speaking our minds and, and I dream to shape that future with a pen in hand.
I Wish I Was Half-Empty
Because my cup is overflowing, and if I didn't let it spill, I'd have drowned a long time ago.
Why do I write?
Writing is the only way I can show how vulnerable I am. Because when I live my life, sharing my thoughts and emotions makes no sense when I try to speak or act. I always end up hiding my flaws, I try to show myself as the most optimistic, most put together, most perfect version of myself. All that glitter is washed away in writing...writing is the most genuine way I am able to get my dark thoughts out of my head before they consume me...I write to convince myself that it's okay to be this broken...at least, I'm trying to convince myself that it's okay.Without writing...I don't know how else I would be able accept my imperfections.
I don't think there's anything else I can really give to the world. My writing is the one thing that only I can do...only I can create and call my own. Otherwise I feel so small and it feels like I can't do anything in this giant universe. It sounds so pathetic and cliche, I know...but I think I need to write to feel like my life has a hint of a purpose. Like I'm not just waking up and following the same set of routines every day for the rest of my life.
I write, because if my crazy thoughts can reach out and help anyone, then it's worth it. If my writing makes your day a little better, it's worth it. If it makes you see something you haven't seen before or realize something you never thought about, it's worth it. Even if it is just one person who ends up reading it. I don't need to go big, I don't need to get famous. I just hope I can make you feel something when you read my words...because life can feel robotic and lifeless sometimes.
I write about brokenness, about the flaws in the world, to (hopefully) show that we are all broken...but it's a beautiful kind of broken that humanity shares in together...being broken is what defines us and no one is alone in feeling broken on the inside...I hope my writing can capture this idea even a little bit.
So...I know it's a long confession...but this is why I write.
5 Reasons I Write
1. It's a stress reliever and very relaxing.
2. It helps me to flesh out ideas and justify my arguments.
3. I tend to have a few spare moments at work, and it helps to bid the time.
4. Sometimes I have this overwhelming feeling that I have another person trapped in my head, like I have a twin that never separated from my body. She'll scream at me and command that I do evil and violent things in the voice of Ewan McGregoer, and by writing out the terrible things I'm being compelled to do, I can trick my twin into thinking I completed her tasks. It's the only way I can make the voices stop.
5. I took a course in creative writing in middle school, and I discovered I really enjoy writing about new worlds.
When I was younger and alone, I lost my voice. Not even the shadows would listen to me as I struggled to even understand what I needed.
My voice failed me and I was confused.
I didn't know how to even give myself clues.
Then one day I started writing things down.
I found my escape and I was finally found.
When I was a little bit older, I made my own voice. When I write people listen, and while I still find myself locked inside my head, I understand when I write I'm not dead.
#emotional #depression #outlook #writing #prose #freewrite #rhyme #challenge
when the boat is lost at sea
the waves toss so relentlessly
the compass spins out of control
and endless storms all take their toll
the sea is written as smooth as day
a window pane of salty spray
the waves now words, black and white
they tower less with this new sight.
when the cracks begin to show
the pen seems too know just where to go
the weight on your chest is far too much
but a breath on a page is a reassured touch
writing helps me find myself
when peace seems on the highest shelf
out of reach, but still so near
I felt so far, I feel no fear
though writing may not heal all things
it helps express, like bows and strings
a melody inside your head
made my me, and by you, read.
And so I write my feelings here
and now my heart is always near
It’s not for you, it is for me
the doors were locked, but here’s the key.
And now for random prose appreciation:
THIS IS MY 100th PROSE ENTRY! YAY!!! GO ME! I have had prose for almost two months now, and I guess I would just like to say thank you? to prose? Yes, thank you, Prose. It was introduced to me by a few wonderful friends I have, and to be honest it has helped me so much. These last few months have been super hard for me, and usually I would just sit by myself and wallow in pity for days without telling anyone, but now I can wallow in pity and make you all listen! Heh heh... Well, actually, in all seriousness, I think it has really helped me to be able to express my worries to this wonderful community. Really, it helps so much to be able to get things off of my chest (Hence why I am writing this for this particular challenge). A few weeks ago someone told me that when they read my writing on prose it wasn’t really like talking to the real me. I am not totally sure what they meant by that, but I think that is why prose is really great. I think most things, if not everything I have posted, are about me and my personal life. Some things on here I have wanted to tell people for ages but haven’t been able to find the words. I still like to be very vague about it all because that way people can sort of leave it up for interpretation, but there is stories behind my posts. Getting that out, telling people, has been such an immense relief for me. Soooo thank you prose, for helping me find my voice, and thank you prose, for helping me find myself. This is an amazing website. :)
Love you all!!!
The door is closed, it is quiet, the way I like it because noise is better off left for the dead, or in a soundproof container along with the assorted pandemonium that resides out there and in my mind. I am here, in blissful silence, undistracted, transferring thoughts gathered from somewhere, that I can't say one hundred percent are mine. If they are from another dimension, I suppose I can say they are mine to share, in the way a farmer harvests the corn growing on his land. Sometimes he gets a satisfactory yield, sometimes not so much. Either way, hopefully there is some value, to someone when they take a bite.
Am I What I Write?
To write is to express oneself without judgement. A platform in which the first amendment is most present.
To write is to spill your heart out through your fingers. To guide your soul onto paper; transfer energy via words.
To write is not to type.
To write is to acknowledge your errors, constantly finding ways to better yourself. To work out your issues without a care of who’s in on it.
To write is to appeal where one never thought possible. To obliviously touch souls.
To write is to provide therapy. To help others realize they are not alone.
To write is to save a life.
To write is to live on eternally.
I relinquished my sanity when I became a writer.