Thursday, November 19, 2015
My Heart is Like an Unfinished Puzzle, Always Missing Love
I write all the time.
I don't always write stories. Sometimes I write articles that have nothing to do with the fantasy worlds that I have created in my head. I write to make a living. I write because it gives me the feeling that I am creating art.
I write to communicate, to express my feelings, to get my emotions out, to make sense of my thoughts, to clarify what I'm thinking, and sometimes I even share those thoughts with the world as a way for the world to get to know me.
I write because it's an escape from reality. It's a place where things that cannot exist, do. Writing is a place where unicorns and mermaids are real, and realms are within my control. I write to experience adventures, to explore worlds, to see that which cannot be seen. I write because I favor painting pictures with words.
I write because my mind wanders between daydreams and the dreams that come from sleep, and I feel like these stories that are haunting me, need to be told. I identify with the characters, they become an extension of me, the plots become real, and I start to feel attached. I develop emotions, real feelings, from bringing those who are imagined to life. It's part of the creative process. It becomes imperative to get those stories and characters out of my brain, and onto the computer where I can see them so I don't forget them. Once I've developed my characters, given them personalities, names, quirks, and flaws; created their stories - it's fun to revisit them to see how they've evolved through my writing.
I write because of the things I feel. These invisible tendrils called love, that bind us to one another such that we do the most beautiful and horrible things. Our grandest moments of giving and sacrifice and our lowest desires of taking and hurting. They together rise before me like a brilliant and destructive sea. Golden arms of loyalty embracing that sick-green creature that jealously covets. Because often I feel nothing in the achievements of men and feel everything in the eyes of a broken and battered animal.
I write because of things that I must know and the things that I do know. I write to understand. I want to delve into the depths of my soul, to explore my deepest secrets. To rise and soar above the things I keep buried. To celebrate glory. To witness beauty. To reveal great horrors. To understand pain and sadness. To capture both the extraordinary and the mundane. To examine possibilities and to explore the impossible. To contemplate this world as it is and as it might be. To hold, for just one moment, these ideas and then to release them upon the page.
I write because I love reading.
I write because it gives me a sense of pride to create something I care about. To build something from nothing and watch the story grow.
I write because it makes me happy. I love the power of words. I find it awakens a part of me to learn that my words have touched someone's heart and mind. It gives me great pleasure to know my words can make a person laugh, cry, bring out the anger, tame the beast, because the power of words have the ability to stir the emotions we hold deep inside.
I write because words have the power to help me fall in love. When I write, I feel everything deeply.