Why are you wasting your time? Why are you staying in your illusions? Why are you so numb? I have no answers because I think I have fallen deeply in love with words. I can feel my inner voice through my writings. Fast paced life, dilapidated existence and a lonely soul with his unrecognised ideas is moving forward slowly.
There is no feeling of suffocation when he writes. There is bliss all round him when scribbles. His imaginations transport him to a world of his own. A writer feels pain, he feels lust, and he feels everything that’s humane. The society dumps him, friends ignore him and parents hardly call him. The road is shaky, little hazy and full of darkness but there is a bright light at the end of the tunnel. There is a deep pain inside him, there is unknown craving for something that he don’t know.
His writings aren’t profound, his words aren’t best sellers, and his ideas about life are crazy. Sometimes he feels quitting everything and sometimes he is so very part of everything. His mind revolves around so many things. There are confusions all around him. Oh! Is it the beauty of writing or just foolish thoughts of a nonsense babbler? How to make everyone understand the beauty of feeling something and expressing them with words? How to make people understand and visualise the soul of a writer? How to make everything so real in a fairytale? There are questions, there are hardly any answers but the scribbler isn’t alone. There are like-mind people all around.
I hate to be philosophical; I hate to talk profound things because I think the beauty of life lies in its simplicity. I am not running from the big world where there are so many intellectual people, I am not trying to run from people who are better than me in every aspect- I am just trying to convey the magnificence of something that may be so out of the world for the outside world. Everything should be supported by facts but how many facts are real? Writing isn’t only a soul healing thing; it’s something much more higher than that. Why are you writing when you don’t have anything to deliver? Why are you scribbling your useless thoughts? Why are you creating a world of imagination all around? Sometimes an author is misunderstood because he scribbles down everything that is yet to be revealed in the society. Sometimes he falls under a trap of people who hardly understands the purpose of writing. Writing is my first love because there is nothing better than a freedom of expression. Writing is my first love because I can do everything with my thoughts. Sometimes they become so dark and sometimes they are so very active. The road is shaky, little hazy and full of darkness but there is always a bright light at the end of the tunnel that keeps a writer alive.