I don’t know what’s been happening to me these days. Everyday when I go to bed I feel this desire to write. Anything really. But it has to be on a concrete piece of paper – I just use a notepad – and with a pen, not virtually by blogging or even writing in my private diary in Microsoft Word (password-protected^^)
Therefore I end up continuing some short stories I neglected or write a whole page on my thoughts and state of mind – all of this being private so I won’t be typing these onto WordPress ;P
Then I thought well, it’s true that writing is relaxing, it’s a escape door from reality. With so much pressure and revision work on me, my brain starts to want some play time.
The whole point is that this behaviour of mine made me think of something:
When we write, we can unleash our imagination… let ourselves be carried away by the flow of our ideas. We control everything. We take over. We are the masters. We can turn our paper to a number of worlds, and different creatures, characters… unimaginable situations.
We can control time. We bounce from past to present to future… in any order we want!
And if we don’t like… we throw the paper away and it’s just gone!
Real life is so different. The moment you go back to reality – from your essay – you realise that firstly, time is uncontrollable. The past keeps on following you, the present is always too short and the future is a burden you have to carry on your shoulders. Then, yourself – you cannot control yourself. You are what you are and you can’t change it. We end up being the servants of Fate.
~Victim of circumstances~
An Evil Nymph