From the depths of my soul I am a writer. My greatest contribution has been letting my pen collide with paper and letting inspiration form. Since a child I have lacked verbal communication, being scared and timid to speak my mind. As I grew and my thoughts did the same I had to get them out. Vocal cords still not strong enough to project my feelings and thoughts, I picked up my pen and began to write. Every emotion imaginable filled the page: joy, sorrow, fear, power, confidence, determination, defeat, love, hate, and confusion sat in bold letters for the world to read. Here on blank pages I discovered who I am. Being able to venture through a world of words, picking the ones that best fit the mood, and placing them side- by- side to create my own universe is liberating. In some instances facts must be uncovered and trailed by my opinion, at other times, I create my own truth, leaving the world no other option but to accept it. Whatever the case may be, my passion pierces the page, and ink drains so that you may see it with your own eyes, jolting emotion to the core of you. There is nothing else I can do so effortlessly as if first nature, for it is first nature. We learn to talk first, imitating the world around us. But for me, I didn’t learn to speak until I learned to write.
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