Everyone has a personal task to consider. The painter who portrays the picture in his mind, the soldier who fights for his country’s sake and so I am a writer. There is something in me that shout in the depth of my heart that is needed to be heard. If it will remain unheard I would always live yet broken, for there is something that completes the wholeness of me- and that is writing.
One solitary day I woke up with an empty heart craving for silence. My heart was weeping with so much tenderness and a great ache filled her thoughts. I didn’t understand what I needed. My tears were falling down without knowing the reason why.
I heard a very loud noise. I felt worse that my heart started to break into pieces. I felt so weak in my mortal body and pathetic soul, but then I tried to stand still because of the need for survival. I must live, I stammered. Then I asked myself what would be the thing that could make me keep on going in this life?
I kept walking as I continued my lost journey. I tried to find a place where I could find my soul again. There ia a voice inside my heart that cries out.
One unexpected night I had seen the most beautiful spot where my heart felt at ease and contented. It was on the yonder of the ocean above the mountain. I got out my pen and paper. Here I have created my own world and defended my own life. . . my happiness.
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