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I do not really know what brought me here. It’s been just so long that I have got the time, energy, commitment and dedication to write what I feel. Earlier in school, writing was my therapy. But things don’t stay the same.
When did I outgrow writing,
when did I think it was alright to not express,
Why and when did opinions start affecting me?
It feels like breathing, the inhale- exhale part of Yoga and Meditation. This is all impromptu, yet has a rhythm to it.
Like dancing, a unique sequence of steps timed and matched to a beat. Like Heart beats rhythmically, why did I lose touch with this rhythm.
Words expressed to form a sentence, paragraph were not just for communication, for me they were my entire world
They could arouse emotions, awaken me. I will never stop writing from now on.
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