One of my hobbies is writing. I like to write anything that's nonsense to thought provoking. I use writing as a release. It’s another
one of my endless therapies. Here’s a quote from Flannery O’Connor, “I write
because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.” I use writing as way to work out my feelings
and thoughts about life. I pen my
feelings in poems. I scribe fictional short stories from prompts I find online
to help satisfy my craving to be creative. I commit ink to a page in order to
scream at the world without letting a sound escape my lips. I scribble about
the people in my life. Of all of the
writing I’ve done in the past few years I don’t have much to show for it
because I rarely save anything I write. The therapeutic part of writing for me
is getting it onto paper and letting it go. Whether it goes by way of the
delete button or a basketball shot into the trash can, it usually goes. My writing
makes me feel vulnerable and I think throwing it out is the way I protect myself
from criticism. I don’t make a habit of writing for others, I write for myself.
Perhaps, someday soon I’ll throw caution to the wind and share one of my
writings. In fact, I vow to share the next fictional short story I write using
a prompt from the Internet. Let’s just hope I don’t forget to share it before
it’s deleted from existence.
