Favorite Authors: Too many.
Favorite Books: Too many.
Thoughts about life: Too much.
So now, I write.
I'm suffering from a minor existential crisis. Okay, 'minor' is an understatement. Inside, I'm screaming. I have so many questions. I think I know a lot about myself, but at the same time, I don't. Hopefully, I'll find some clarity through my writing.
I'm an introvert, meaning that I don't easily open up to other people. But a person, no matter how strong, can only keep so much inside. Something needs to come out, lest you explode.
This, to me, is the reason why I need to write. Putting words down is my savior, a kind of outlet where I could release just about everything that I feel. I haven't noticed it before now, but my writings (at least the ones that I post here) have a common theme. They're about someone trying to find a place in the world - someone who wants to let others in but is afraid to.
So until I conquer this fear (if I ever do), I'll continue to hold this pen in my hand, and write.
And maybe, just maybe, I'll have touched someone along the way...
FictionPress.com - let the words flow
