Here I am again among you, for my various job vicissitudes my presence on this platform is vacillating.
Today I would like to talk to you about a subject that is very much in my heart.
Writing.
By reckoning that I'm getting started, I have a lot to learn and many mistakes to fix, I love to write.
Sometimes, when I'm eaten alive by stress, I feel like a block, but writing has always helped me a lot.
My relationship with writing started as a child, I was the best in themes, excelled as vocabulary and content, while sinning in grammar (this also happens to me adultery unfortunately).
As a teenager writing became my refuge, i kept a diary, for me it was a escape room , a confessional and it was so until a few years ago.
Now, unfortunately, I have lost the habit of keeping one, but I do not care that I am missing every now and then, I am surprised to pass my fingers through the most beautiful notebooks and the most beautiful agendas, wondering how they would be if I became guardians of my thoughts.
I would take all my pains and throw them on paper and sometimes I feel l 'irrepressible desire to express myself by writing, perhaps in the third person, a story to tell.
During the high school I wrote stories and fan fictions, spent hours and hours in the house in front of a screen giving birth to angry or erotic stories or both.
I was in my dark phase, rereading some of my tales at that time I almost fling a smile.
Exiting the school context and having less time to devote to my passions I slowly write off.
Diary often was left empty, I wrote once a month or little more, without transportation.
Almost a list of spending: this month I saw guy and dude, done this, bought that, visited that place ..
I would write all but my diary was cold and without my true soul.
Writing tales was not talked about, the pc was just for mail, curriculum, and enrollment at the exams, the time devoted to writing started to seem like a waste of time..
As I grew up I lost the attitude and habit of writing, and sometimes, at times of particular tension, I dropped down a few tales, stories, dreams that seemed a good start for the fantasy novel.
With steemit I begin to resume writing, sometimes I'm in small stories and sometimes I write about other topics, anyway I write again with joy.
I still want to write and this for me is immense cause of happiness.
Thinking "I can hear this, I can write it!" or "I saw this place and I can tell it!".
Sometimes I can better express myself with the written words than with what you are talking about, the one I feel and live in the deep I can never bring it to the surface.
There are nuances, feelings and feelings that I can only express by writing, alive perhaps I would be ashamed to describe or not describe them with the necessary accuracy.
Too fast the words to always find the ones at first shot.
So how to conclude?
Thanks to you that you read and support me and thanks to steemit that made me feel like writing again!
Pics source : Pixabay.com