It's been five months since I last wrote here.
I don't know why I stopped.
I don't really fully understand why I write at all to be perfectly honest; it's a compulsion; a love of words; an unstoppable desire to express myself outwardly regardless of whether anyone reads it or not; a justification of existence; an attempt to make sense of my world; I am alive so I'm going to write about it.
I don't honestly know and I don't really want to overthink it.
I just know that stringing words together and the way that meaning and feeling are created by doing so is one of the most powerful and beautiful of human experiences.
Writing and reading go hand in hand for me. It goes without saying that I love reading. I'm a little bit obsessed with memoirs and poetry at the moment; fiction just doesn't presently cut it with me. There is an honesty in memoir and poetry that fiction just doesn't offer right now, I know in time it will though.
When a writer can collect words and place them in a certain order and by doing so they make me feel something, perhaps not even exactly what they themselves were feeling, but nevertheless, I am moved in some way by their process - that's magic to me; alchemy.
All writing, I believe, is an attempt to make sense of ourselves and the world around us. And, therefore we most likely read and write because we want to connect the dots, connect with other people, connect to The Universe.
And this is my little online piece of The Universe. It might not mean anything to anybody else, it might not remain online for very long, perhaps nobody at all will read it. But, it's my attempt to scratch out some truth about myself, about living, about us. Just doing that feels good and that's reason enough for me to keep doing it.