Writing

“Writing”

As a student writer and a prospective journalist, different coping mechanisms for the daily struggles of college life fascinate me. After mom and dad cut you off financially, work study paychecks aren’t enough, and you still want a social life; how do you deal with the pressure? Most drop-out, others drink, some even use marijuana. As a young adult newly experienced and mature, I have my own anti-drug called “writing”. Stress releasers come in all forms, just so happen that mine came through words and rhymes.

Many people have used “writing” as an art form to express themselves spiritually and musically. Not many people have taken pains of life and turned it into grace, through writing, creating art. I can and I will, I believe that “writing” is not just words on a page or a hobby, but spiritual connection through language, and this I believe.

Language is not always vocal either; language can be another bill overdue to pay this month or the debate over partying or studying for finals. When these daily pains are stricken upon me I let it fuel my pen that never stops writing. Expressing anger, violence, happiness, and joy through writing can help cope with the hard knock life, and build stronger character in the process. So every obstacle that blocks my path with negative intention, I let my writing hurdle over with positive intention never looking back.

Last month there was so much pressure on my back, I almost broke. I fell lower than low and wasn’t sure if there would ever get up or see the light at the end of the tunnel. Light bill, Gas bill, Water bill, Rent! Not to mention 4 test in 3 days plus football practice. Giving up sounded good at the time but picking up my pen sounded better. I wrote the entire day everything from hardships, family issues, and school to sports, music, and my future. I let my soul bleed in my notebook of life. The pages dampened and became heavy with enough stress to make hair fall out and eyes cry rivers. Every bad thought I wrote with more anger, every stroke of the pen I grew happier. Every paragraph written I grew wiser and stronger, feeling unbreakable. “Writing” is more than an art form it’s a way of life and believe it or not it saved mine. And this I Believe!