Oh how i miss to write.
though i am neither creative, good nor prolific.
often, i write only when i am somewhere between too sad and too happy.
at times, i just write when i miss myself.
or whenever i miss that part of me that yearns to create.
what i lack in the areas of aesthetics and crafts, i think i found in the written words.
sadly, at most, inspiration is hard to get by.
as perfection is achieved through practice, i could perhaps find a friend in consistency.
however, that one area i can as well be tried and convicted.
nevertheless, my soul yearns to write.
something in the way with how words are put together to share a story makes me ecstatic and eager about life and living. perhaps, that to a musician with his music and to a cook with his dish, mine is with the alphabets :)
i am in the state again where my soul cries for inspiration, my heart beats for lines and my hands are eager to type.
what can it be? how will it go?
what history and what future will i be so delighted to share with you?
as i search through my memory chest, i feel a great sense of coming home again.
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