A Few Narrations.

I have a very active mind.


1. A Slight Narration

Everything I write begins with an emotion, either on my part or on a character’s. All of my creations, my poems and the stories I weave start with me feeling some sort of pain. I never write when I’m happy, because writing is the thing that makes me happy, it’s the activity that gets me to the perfect balance of stress, bliss and a sense of purpose in this huge mixed up world of mine. Because this world isn’t the world everyone lives in. I reside in my own space, with the people I create sitting amongst the people I adore in the real world. Lovisa sitting with my friends, Isabelle striking up a conversation in sign language with my awfully talented mother… Each person I design fits into my life in a place where I think there’s something that’s missing, that one tiny thing that makes my world perfect.

Not that my life isn’t great; it is. It’s fantastic and wondrous, with so many open doors just waiting for me to peek into, have a nose around and choose if that’s what I want my life to be like. But my world is what opens those doors for me, the characters I dream about at night making such theatrical storylines that people have noticed me for what my own creations have provided me with. Life, love, death and loss all play a part in both mine and my characters’ realities, but who’s to say that one is real and the others isn’t?

Being a writer is like playing God but on a whole other scale. You have no worries about repercussions, any thought to natural disasters, bombings or war. You create the war and the causes for it. That’s what I like about writing. The ability to create and destroy whichever way you please, and the only people you’ll anger are your readers, who cling on until your very last full stop at the end of a story.


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