Words.

I wonder what ever happened to days when I would be listening to random songs on my playlist and have the sudden urge to type something. The surge of energy to write about....nothing or perhaps anything.

It was a lovely feeling, I didn't always have to feel alot in order for the words to string together and flow. It was so easy. I turned to writing as a form of release. It was a outlet for me where I didn't care if the world judged me. People could read it, understand or not understand it and they could think whatever the hell they want. All because this was my blog.

After years, I still come back here because well I guess I can't bare to click delete and end it all. To be honest, there is nothing exceptional or precious about this blog. No one would benefit from it. Just random (maybe at times senseless) posts. But I would like to keep this space forever, because I like that I can always come back and visit it and read about the memories that I've written about. It's a disgusting yet warm fuzzy funny feeling. It's nice.

It's good to know that these endless string of words remind me of my life and what I've become.

Tata.