What is means to write

Have you ever had the urge to write? About anything and everything. To transfer your imagination onto paper, to write down every feeling, every thought. To use words to express your every being.

That’s how I feel everyday. I just want to write and write until I’m numb, until all I become is the words I’ve written, the thoughts I’ve expressed, my wants and my desires. I put my pencil to the blank sheet of paper in front of me, begging to be written on, and I find myself confused.

I stare at the blank sheet of paper. I cannot write anything. My mind goes blank so similarly to that of the sheet of paper; where did my thoughts go? I was supposed to be doing something good, something soothing, something. However, I cannot find myself to do so.

My one true love, my writing, cannot help me anymore. Where has my joy gone? My emotion? I can’t feel anything except painful confusion stabbing me in the head. When did I become so empty? When did I become so much like the paper I had filled every passing day? The pain of the confusion worsens and my vision begins to blur. There is a sudden warmth engulfing my head. The unsettlingly white paper starts to become colored with red. My pen falls to floor, stained red as well. Red, red, red. As my eyes focus on the red splattered on the paper, the painful confusion dulls into a bliss I have never felt before. Is my joy returning? The fullness that had left me returns as my vision darkens. Is this the feeling I had long since forgotten?