Writing always fascinates me. I've tried to write tales, stories, poems and even tried to fuse it with my 'meaning less' photography. The whole idea here is 'simply trying' to do what 'I think', I can do. Simply trying to survive and remind me that I can, at least, jot some words.
The words have no meanings. Seriously ! I'm surely one of the most flawed personalities I've ever seen. But hey, there's a good side in every one of us. The good side here is the raw hope I can still relate to. Relate to what I used to do once, what I loved once, what I was passionate about once. And like everybody else, I used to be passionate about many things.
I wrote. Wrote few tales and then the words started to disappear. Disappeared because the furious temptation simply faded away. The urge to have people read my carvings simply died and then the story continued.
It ain't that furious or say the urge ain't that hard these days. Simply jot my babbles to make a tiny mark and remind me that I 'still' can write. I don't know whether the aim of marking my existence can continue in the days to come, yet, I am slightly hopeful that I will do some justice to the characters that I've created once. The characters won't let me sleep, relax or ignore anymore and they keep coming into my conscience. They yell me once in a while and curse me for creating them.
Dude, yes, if I can create them, I can surely bring them here and have YOU go through their stories. They had many things to tell. They had their own secrets embedded into their lives and yes, they were there. They still exist but have been living apart with memories, memories that will NEVER go away. Memories that will never make them apart. Memories that will never fade. Memories that they will cherish forever.