I started writing when I was young and didn’t had any friends. For a long time in my life I didn’t had real friends, the ones who stick with you. Or any kind. So I carved them in diaries and back pages of school notebooks with a name and a story. I created my own friends.
I started writing in search of friends and back then it was easy because I hadn’t crossed the point of life where you bump into truth, get married and stuck in a sour relationship. Finding truth is like getting stuck in a one way lane, there is no way back.
I still write but now I know things.
Stories melt, fictional friends evaporate and it leaves a hole little too deeper to be filled.
I think the only reason I write is because I was born with a story too.
Superheroes and writers have one thing in common…they both hide behind something…whether it’s a mask or a pen and a paper!
There was a time i used to love writing letters. It was the time when Google and Laptops were kind of technology aliens all ready to take over the world of pen and paper. Seems like a life time ago. I used to love buying good looking diaries and notebooks and notepads, classy pens and pencils. Stationary was my best friend back then. I still have so many diaries in my wardrobe and i wonder what to do with them.
I used to write sorry, thank you and i love you letters to friends who were special to me. I think telling a person how special he or she is on a piece of paper is closest thing to telling it in person. emails, whatsapp, tweets, fb posts are emotion killer. Truth is, I find writing down a small one line thank you on a paper more appealing and personal than pinging someone offline saying “Thank you for being a part of my life and for letting me have you as a friend.”
Anyhow. With the kind of week i have been having i desperately need a Meg Ryan or Winona Ryder movie marathon. Nothing would make me more happy.