I guess... That I really don't know what to talk about when it comes to myself.
It's not like there aren't things that I like or dislike, and it's not like I don't understand myself at all. Be that as it may, when asked about myself, I can only repeat the words someone else has spoken about me before.
It's just... Because I probably like feelings and something intangible more than to use words to express myself. But I also like to write about things I understand. Not as part of me, but of someone else. By using those words I wouldn't when thinking about myself, I use them to give shape to characters: each with their own past, each with their own future.
And each with their own stories.
Perhaps, that way, a piece of me that is yet not piece of me will remain forever, and touch other people. What I myself couldn't achieve, stories that I write will.
Therefore, I enjoy writing them.
There is no a reason why I start a book. There's also no reason why I finish it. It's just, at the moment my fingers touch the keyboard, I am no longer me, and my thoughts finally become words.
I never really had a certain plot line either. I just thought for days, months, years - different scenarios came together one after another without any reason nor rhyme. Sometimes they form a greater picture. sometimes they ruin it. and sometimes I simply forget them.
But, in the moment I begin to write, in the moment I my soul no longer belongs to my body - I connect all those jumbled thoughts that otherwise couldn't leave my lips.
That is all there's to it.
And that alone is enough for me to keep writing more.
Read my work on Dreame Stories | Reading Completes Me;
such as: [Fake Relationship with the Bad Boy], [Sound of Your Heart], [Sixth Bloodline], [Vampire and a Wolf] and more upcoming works.
- JoinedMay 1, 2014