There’s something about writing that I can’t quite put a finger on, something like a drug of which you just can’t get enough.
Someone asked me to explain my obsession with writing. My answer is; it’s my weed, my opium, my cocaine, MY CANNABIS.
Wrote this poem when I was high on ink. Uhuh!
Guess I found my soulmate. Writing. I draw energy from her, I make her solid by materialising her. We coexist. She lives in my blood, I live in her existence. Just that. No questions asked, none given.
It’s one of those passions that burn with a fire untamed. A furnace that can be re-ignited any time someone tries to douse it. A furnace that will never stop burning no matter what.
So, you need a soulmate? I’ll simply tell you to get that which ignites your bones and sets your body aflame. It shouldn’t necessarily be a person. It can be your pet, your career, you know yourself best, so, you name it.
Sit down, think. What exhilarates you?
A great the rest of the week to you.
