People say writing is easy. You sit on your ass and write about whatever stupid thing crosses your mind at the time and get paid for it. They laugh at me when I say I’m a writer. “Writing is not a real job”, they say, “find something meaningful to do with your life”. How wrong they are…
Writing is like giving birth, alone, in the middle of a dark forest, without any painkillers. It’s more complex and complicated than it seems. Writing is like a calling, like the Beacon of Light in the absence of hope; it’s like that voice that soothes your heart in a time of need.
I’ve been keeping a diary since I was 9. I always felt the need to write. Now I’m starting to feel the need of an audience. So, I’ve decided to write for you about myself, about the way I’m experiencing life, about my perspective and my struggles to find (and to give) meaning to all that is meaningless.
Is it me creating Life or is it the Life creating me?
This is my journey and I’m taking you along with me.