I like to believe that writing is what I’m meant to do in this life, but I don’t know if I’m right. All I have to go on is my intuition and the way I feel when the words start to appear on the page.
Doubts are always around, trying to show me why I’m not done for this. How my words aren’t good enough, and even if they are, it doesn’t matter because no one will read them.
I’ve been doing this long enough to know why I keep on doing it. I am giving shape to the thoughts in my mind in the hope they will help people understand what is going on in their own minds. At the same time, I allow my mind to free itself from the pressure these thoughts create.
Writing helps me to create an image of what is going on inside my soul and my mind. The words that come out are new to me also. I understand what they mean only by the time my pen stops.
When I don’t know what to do, I write. When I do anything else, I want to write. When I write, that is all I do. Even when I don’t want to write, I am forced to. The time I invest in this is never lost because when I’m finished, I am refreshed, even if I’m tired.
Words hold the power to create or destroy, even when they seem weak and simple. It is important for me to be aware of what I’m setting free into the world, but at the same time, I understand that all that comes to the surface, do so for a reason.
My life started changing shortly after my words found their way into the world. It has expanded and diversified in a way I didn’t know was possible. I am grateful for the perspective I have gained in life.
I hope that whoever gets to read these simple words will be affected in a way that their own lives will get better.
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