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Oh writing! The gush of pleasure!
The tinge of beauty, and understanding attempted,both of yourself,and offered up to others.
Like pagan sacrifice, raw and bleeding, a beating, pulsating heart thrust forward in clumsy hands, dripping thickly down between the fingers.
Or, writing: a peaceful contented sigh; a thankful thought, caught and remembered. And, sometimes, offered up to Heaven,to your maker, a worship, a thankyou-note for all of the blessings surrounding.
And, other times, a panic-striken, and anger-ridden, a tear stained collection, a vent for all of the pent up negativity. A solitary release, a welcome assuage balming an injured palm.
Writing, no matter the genre, it is of infinite help to me as I make my way through the world, a gentle aid where no other is found.

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