I can only write when I’m sad… I don’t know why but it’s true.
When I was younger I would hide away in my bedroom and scribble for hours. Nowadays I never seem to find things to write about. Maybe that’s a good thing because I’m not sad. However that sense of relief when your mind’s going crazy as you rush to write words on the page. Your brain’s trying to keep up with the speed of your hand but somehow it cannot. You read over everything you’ve written and it feels completely new and alien. I really miss that feeling. It’s the greatest escape because for a moment you feel like every problem you have has left your body along with the words. That tiny minute when you read over everything and forget about who you are.
I guess it makes me a little sad looking back. I wouldn’t want my child to feel like their only way out was by writing.