Blood coarsing through my veins, it becomes ink, which, when manipulated by my mind and hand, turns into letters, that will make words that then creates sentences.
These sentences come together to form coherent thoughts reflective of my feelings…Scratch that~ nothing is cohenrent when it comes to my mind.
So, all this together makes it official~ I write. I am a writer. What does that means? To write is to communicate in an unconventional manner. Reaching out to other humans, exposing a thought, a feeling, maybe risk an opinion. Trying to create a connection. Aren’t we all just looking to connect?
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