The writing process can be a daunting on to many people. This is especially so for those who fear the ever white empty screen or paper that would force them to draw out all vocabulary known to man. This is sometimes a failed attempt at exhausting the inexhaustible cravings for words.
At times, this is also because of our inner critic. The small peculiar voice that says. "What you are writing is utter rubbish!", "You call that an essay?" and the best yet, "Who would ever read such a thing?". As with the probability of no one but me reading this blog, I believe that writing in itself is a rewarding experience. Something just seems to connect in my mind when I put pen to paper, or when my fingers dance across the keyboard. There is nothing as exhilarating as writing to me.
Yet, my inner critic will always be my greatest enemy. One who tramples all ideas and thoughts. This is my attempt at revenge *cue thunder, storm and background music* or rather my release from its grasp.
The world is often a strange place. One that is hostile yet seemingly comfortable. Complex yet seemingly simple. It has become my inspiration to write on any topics coming to my mind and give a twist to it. Who knows what will happen? All I can be sure is that my inner critic isn't too happy about it. ;-)
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