Writing

That's the beauty of writing. You start writing and time starts to disappear from you, sliding off your fingertips in patterns and waves cannot ever again replicate. You start writing, and the world grows darker, nothing matters except finishing this one piece. There nothing as frustrating as having a piece and not being able to finish it with a happy ending, Maybe. You put it down but your fingers plead and your mind roars, telling you to just write one more sentence. One more sentence which could finish it, or leave you there crying for a release of writing. Cream meets black or fingers glide over the keys and suddenly, everything is taken and you cannot get your mind off it. It's an art form. Not melody and words melding together, nor is it a paintbrush caressing the smooth canvas but it is an art form all its own. 

Writing is a drug, and I am the perfect tool to release the joy and pain it brings. 

These are just some posts that I wanted to keep to myself because I found these little short stories really... haunting in a way. I believe that's the word I want to use. 

Personal Addition

Okay, Maybe I lied. I had told myself that I wouldn't go back on this blog. I do admit, I miss it. I miss coming to class every morning and expecting to have just some time to do things I find relaxing. Time has gone by so quickly. I now understand how it feels to compare time to grains of sand. Perhaps I'll write a post about that, and perhaps I won't. I don't know. I just feel that this is an okay place to vent or just talk about random things.