Writing. A fun way to express your feelings…as my teachers would say. But to me, it has a whole new meaning. I enjoy writing on my own time...away from the world and in complete silence. I manage to throw sentence by sentence in some kind of order.
Sometimes I don’t know how I do it, but I do! I work with wisdom and knowledge to make magic. My fingers, tingling, stride along the paper, leaving that ugly grey color of leftover lead on my hand. Waiting until that moment when I can wash it off, but knowing I have so much more information to splash onto my paper.
If only everyone had the same kind of passion in writing as I do. I like composing stories, poems, and secret diary entries. But when I am forced to write the same old same old, I get bored. I want to let out new kinds of words that feel trapped inside me, waiting for a chance to escape through my pencil to my paper.