I always wanted to write a book. Not because I thought that my writing was better than others, or because I thought I would be famous one day. I guess, I just liked the idea of having my very own book, and because I love books.
Until today, I refuse to read the endless adventures of various characters on electronic devices. I understand that most of the time they’re more practical – how awful is it to be restricted to 23 kg on a plane and try to fit 5 books into your luggage even though you wanted to pack light.
But for me, there’s nothing better than going into a book store grabbing one of these little wonders from the shelves and smell as well as feel them.
The older I got, the more I realized, it wasn’t about the book itself. It was about the writing. I simply love writing, I’ve done it as long as I can remember. Diaries, short stories, never-ending stories, poetry, texts, snippets.
I was writing about things that happened in school or with friends, I was writing fiction to escape reality, and at some point I started writing about what’s been going on in my head. And as soon as I was able to express my thoughts, I used writing as my therapy.
I can’t tell you when I realized for the first time that being in a bad state of mind made me write more. I just felt relieved after putting the chaos into words, because writing was my way of dealing with – what I later started to call – my dark days.
So, yes, you could say, most of the things I’ve written so far, do exist because of the monsters I have to live with. And as much as it is exhausting to share my life with them, I finally started to appreciate them from the bottom of my heart. They make me do what I love, they make me write. And I wouldn’t want to miss that.
Although, I’ve been sharing texts online for a while now, I’m super exited and proud to show you my new blog.
I guess the reason is I used to chose wisely what kinds of texts I wanted to publish… not because I was picky about it, but as I said, they show every single detail that’s going on during my darkest days. And I just recently started to talk about all that. But now that I do, I want to share it – it’s a part of me, and I think, it is one of the most important and best ones.
In monsterly love,