For me, writing is an old friend. It doesn’t judge, belittle, rush, or ignore me. I can come to it with a load on my back and without noticing, writing shares and shares the burden till it’s no more. It never expects too much from me and understands when I can’t be around. Then we come together again in a jubilant reunion and this great memory is created. Not a day or week goes by where I don’t think of writing, of all that we can accomplish together, the schemes we can make come to life, and the stories only we can come up with. Like a true friend, writing can pull the best out of me, open my eyes, be my confidant and therapist. It’s a constant rock that I can rely on till the end of time and even then, I know writing will keep my memory alive.
That is my metaphor. That is my writing. What’s yours?
Like with all other posts, I welcome you to comment and share your opinions.