It’s funny how something that begun as an escape, then a joke can eventually become such a part of you.

I first started writing because I was lonely.  I listened way more than I talked and even though I was constantly surrounded by people, somehow I couldn’t make myself heard. It didn’t bother me much, however, with time I realized I had to find a way to let the thoughts out. I was never good at talking, but I was used to play endless conversations in my mind, so I figured it shouldn’t be that hard to simply write them down… and it wasn’t!

Oddly enough, it was easier to let the confessions out in written, even if made them permanent. Beginning to write was not planned, I’m not even sure how it happened, just that one day I was sitting in my room and words started to spill out.

It was all very secretive at first, very classified, never to be shared. Partly because it was a side of me that I knew people didn’t know and mostly because I was scared about what the reactions might be.

It took time to even consider the idea of sharing some of these thoughts, it took a hell lot of growing up to allow myself to step out of my comfort zone, but years later here we are…

There are days I wish I was more productive, that I was able to keep up with regular scheduled posts, but I try to go easy on myself, as I want this to be pleasure, not an obligation.

I have so many ideas inside that it’s hard to manage at times, I have this one story in particular that has been following me for years and that I still don’t know what to do with… Part of me really wants to finish it and put it out there, but the other…

When I started updating this blog more regularly I used to enjoy checking out the stats, but then I realized that even if no-one would read it, just putting it down and out there was already quite therapeutic.  And now I may not write as often as I wish, but every once in a while inspiration strikes and I just have to let it flow.