Writing is like Breathing and the more I express myself the more I cherish the gift of life. I feel that all which is seen and unseen differentiates the simple irony of life and death, good and evil.
Like stars that fall from the heaven, selected are the few, sought out by a higher power to bring specific knowledge to you. The selected few are muses, created to interpret all that is, was, and is to become. It is this gift of knowledge that builds one’s character & gives them a sixth sense. This sixth sense is the voice in our head that guides us from wrong to right.
Since I was little, I’ve always wanted to write. My first poem was written at the age of 8. Then writing consumed me day and night, soon becoming an abundance of short stories. I usually wrote of horror, fear, and death. Never really understanding why I wrote what I did, only that the visions would come to me in my dreams and the voices were as real as the light of day. Throughout elementary school I was told I was an exceptional writer, talented, and creative. As I became older I was advised there was no future in writing , so I pursued a different path and eventually the dreams and voices in my head began to subside.
Until 5 years ago when the visions became overwhelming and once again started to consume me day and night. They would appear to me in dreams or as voices from someone beside me, telling me what to write and the words would just flow through my fingers and onto paper. As I’d write them down and read them, they became more and more clear.
