As of late, it seems as if my writing has been placed on a certain pedestal. And while it is great to receive compliments and acclaim, it was never my intention. A true writer would never be in it solely for money or praise – myself being no exception. Honestly, it started out as an attempt to decompress my emotions. Using writing as a method to possibly achieve such a state. Whether or not it is effective is up in the air – as the ad for one company says: “Some perfection is debatable.” I could scribble in this notebook until I filled every page, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I will feel better in the end. One would like to think that this expression of self would cure all woes. Let us not fool ourselves. Just like writing is no simple task – the relief of such problems that causes these literary urges is not simplistic either.
These words may be the closest that I will come to therapy. Using the collective thoughts bundled onto the paper for good – as a way to healing. Mending and repairing all the tears and strains in my mind. In addition, I hope these entries provide a possible solace for those who may need them regardless of whether I’ve done them wrong in the past or not. I’m nothing more than a common man that decided to share his thoughts. I could have never imagined how things have turned out. I appreciate the support from those who have made it known. Whether just a sentence or a heart-felt paragraph, you all make writing worth it.