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You find yourself sitting at a blank computer screen late at night, searching desperately for words that mean nothing; hypothetical phrases seemingly trapped behind some invisible door in your mind…
You are not writing.
Because writing is a blood that comes bursting out of you, in spite of any barriers you try to keep it bandaged behind. Writing is the expulsion of emotions that pump through your body and pulsate beneath your skin. Writing is a fire that rages inside; thrashing at your skin to be let out; begging to escape onto a pure white page where it can rage and burn for an eternity to come.
If you find yourself torturing the backspace button in a lazy, methodic rhythm, it’s time to go home, kid.
If it’s forced, you’re not writing.
Write when the storm inside of you is raging. Write when the sun will explode in the skies if you cannot release the fury that burn s in your bones. Write when your thoughts could turn the earth, and the ground seems to tremble beneath the power in your words.
Write when you’re run-down and tortured and tying a knot at the end of your rope. Write when the words are your heartbeat. Write when staying still would drive you to madness, when stalling would sliver your soul.
When the words flow from your fingers like a second heartbeat, you know that you are writing. There are no wrong words when you mean every one. There are no faults when the force of your words find their flow.
Writing is a universe of possibilities to unleash passions; a multitude of colors to emerge from your mind.
If it isn’t bursting out of you at a thousand miles an hour, your writing needs to stay inside.
Let it rattle around, for a little.
Let is shake itself up.
Because writing is feeling, is living, is surviving. If the thoughts are not your lifeline, than the words are not your own.
Writing is a second heartbeat, palpitating in time with your own.
If the writing is in you, it will find a way out.
Because until the day you die, the writing will never die within you.