A powerful emotion (love or hate) and feelings towards someone or something else. Expressful, definite, strong, vibrant. These are just some of the ways I can describe what “passion” means to me. But what if I am not passionate in loving someone or hating something? What if my passion is something I’m doing right now, something that everyone has been doing since they first learned how to spell their name? My passion is writing. Whether it be hearing the clack of the key I enter onto the computer screen, or the hard stroke of a pencil or pen striking the blank page of a piece of paper, writing is what I love. I believe in writing. Writing is how I express myself and fully flaunt my individuality to the best of my ability. It is a way that I can articulate my emotions without having to convey them out loud. If I am feeling heartbroken or lost, I write a story about someone going through serious hardships, and reading about them will make me feel better about my life and make me appreciate what I do have; if I am feeling ecstatic or overjoyed, I write a story about an alternate universe, to capture one’s mind into delving into the unusual and unexpected. I believe in writing.
The words flow through my mind onto the paper or screen, searing themselves into my brain, imprinting themselves into my head. They have sharp, little edges that constantly poke at my conscience, screaming at me to release them, screaming at me to let them be seen and let them be heard. Sometimes they come without conscious thought; they pour out like a cascading waterfall on a deserted island, far from any other sign of life, barricading itself into a pool of my innermost thoughts. Other times, I strain in order to write what I really feel; the words like a caged animal—fighting and slamming hard against the prison to break loose, all the while unable to find the key to set them free. From my first play at age six to my first novel at seventeen, writing has been a very fun event in my life. I believe in writing.
Whether you’re a protagonist in a wild goose chase through an unsealed hole in time, flying backwards through the air like a bullet in a blinding flash of green light, desperately searching for the answers to a thirteen-year long mystery; ensnaring your senses by reliving the visions of your enemies, creating a dark device so dangerous and powerful, it threatens your entire, unique civilization. You could be a lonely orphan in a foul orphanage, accidentally stumbling upon a bright, fresh, new world, filled with fairies and magic and creatures of the dark, trying to understand a prophecy claiming you are protector of their realm. Writing takes imagination, imagination takes work, work takes dedication. I believe in writing and writing believes in me; writing, writing, writing—this I believe.
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