This could take some thinking through as I type the words that flow within my mind. I have sat and asked myself right now... Why do I write?
Straight away the answer is simple and plain... Because I want to and couldn't care less what someone else wants to say about anything that I write or have written..It will come down to you're opinion over mine and I welcome everyone's. I don't and choose not to write for the David vs Goliath moments in which I've seen on so many occasions where people try and out do each other, to compete for more comments.
I write because I love the way in which words can come together and create pictures and feelings within our minds and bodies. Where we are free to express what is on our minds without the hassle of everything else getting in the way.
As I say
The words in which we write fill not only our hearts and minds, but fills the voids of others to ease and help the way, our words are mere fragments of what makes us be and with appreciation said or unsaid we will for ever be and if I can touch just one persons heart without ever holding it then I have fulfilled my dream :)
I still stand by that and I find the written word to be a powerful thing. Whether it's from books, poems, or even newspapers, If your reading what someone else has written you are making a connection no matter how small. With words from a poem it becomes another level. Perhaps one that is deeper and one of true emotion both controlled and raw. When you read those words written you too can harness some of the emotion to which the writer was feeling at the time it was written.
If you were to look deeper behind the words in which many write you can unscramble them to see the deeper meaning and not just the obvious ones that hit the surface.
However what I really really don't like... Writers Block!!! It's horrible, vulgar all mean names under the sun... good thing it's night time here. I despair feeling at a loss when I want to write and there seems to be nothing. Where the page before me remains empty for yet another night whilst i sit and ponder the world going by.
Or there are the occasions where I have a snippet that seems half intelligent or looks to show some promise for a posting or a poem and then something comes up, someone gets in the way and the trail has gone cold. So much so that I often find myself at that moment trying to retrace my trail of those lost thoughts and words that have eluded the present grasp. They may or may not have been flowing words that would have been the next up and coming hot off the press headlines [ I can dream ] Unfortunately for me[ perhaps fortunate for you ] any trace of what was tends of have left. Flown away upon the gusts of wind that came forth and plucked them from the very caverns in my mind that keep them flowing like rivers to a waterfall flowing out to see.
I love how poems are paintings with words how as you read the picture unfolds much like how when you look longer at a painting more things come to you that you would never have noticed before. How when you read a book you see the images as they are described. How that adds to the magic before you.
Words can be so powerful used in the right context... your thoughts are always welcome