Why I write Part 1
When my life was good and I had a future, writing purely for the pleasure of doing so was never something I would have considered. With the exception of my degree in my mid 40’s, any writing revolved around reports for work and were kept to a minimum as much as I could possibly do so.
After my arrest and charge for something I never did but couldn’t disprove, my mind went, initially rendering me incapable of logical thought or reasoning and leaving only thoughts of isolation, depression, suicide and hate for the callous pigs of this state that cared nothing for truth or destroying innocent lives. Over those first few months, as contact with loved ones resumed (something I’d already assumed in my own mind would never happen again, no matter how innocent I knew I was), it was then that writing became my only outlet for so many emotions.
Comments
PattyTherre wrote on January 12, 2015, 3:22 AM
I am giddy with happiness to see you here! Write on, my friend, but remember to comment. You get paid for every comment you make to others. It's a twist but a fun one! You control what you make in a way. :)
seren3 wrote on January 12, 2015, 9:12 PM
I have a friend who was once threatened with something like you experienced. My brain shut down for year and I lost my health because of that. So I can distantly relate to your experience.