The confession: Part I

Writing is my therapy, it's the way I relax.It soothes me and the paper is my shrink and the pen is my anti-depressant. The only way I can organize my thoughts is to let them flow in perfect harmony through the keyboard to form words for me to express myself. The paper doesn't judge me, the keyboard won't argue with me. I don't have to answer endless questions of who? what? when? and why? I don't need to get up on a podium and clear my throat. Instead I soliloquize and pour out my feelings in one long note, with no interruptions or interjections and no need to respond to feedback.


Writing is my drug, it soothes my sores and heals my wounds, it's the single dose remedy to my frustrations. It covers my insecurities and assuages my doubts.I don't need to wince in disgust as a fat pill is flushed down by tepid water into my throat before my headaches are gone. I simply take out my laptop, open up a page and pour it out. There, and it's better.


Writing is my addiction, even though I'm not the substance-dependent type, I sometimes feel that if all the books and pens were taken away from this world then I would simply have to curl up and die because how then can I go on.No matter how long I stay away from writing, I always come back. To write a shopping list, to write a to-do list for the day, to write a letter of encouragement to myself.It makes everything better.


Writing is my gift. Everyone has one.I don't do sports, I don't sing, I don't play any instruments. I lie in bed, fingers to the keyboard, eyes fixed on the screen, brows furrowed in concentration and I reach into my mind and write whatever comes to me. Half the time, I don't know what I'm going to write till I write my first word, and then it becomes a sentence then that becomes a paragraph and it becomes a page filled with ideas not always coherent but always honest. Not always intelligent but always the truth.



Writing is my vice.Some stay up to do drugs,others hit the bottle, I stay up all night to write, it takes a while for me to reach my cruising altitude but when I do, I can't stop until every words paints a precise picture, until every meaning is succinct.It exposes me and leaves me vulnerable- for you can tell from my words what I'm going through. You can feel the emotions which my rants evoke and it can speak the truth to you, a truth which you tried so hard to avoid but it's now staring you in the face.


Writing is my thing.