Writing As God – Hello World

Writing has always been a passion of mine.

I hate that line. It has been said at least a million different times by a million different people.

Writing is nothing short of amazing, and I wish I had better words to describe it. I imagine that it is like trying to describe God. No matter how hard you try, it always falls short, you never get it right, and someone is always there to criticise you for not being passionate enough. Heretics.

And like God, I suppose it is easier to simply share the meteor crashing impact it has had in my life. Like when I was young and struggling with depression, writing prevented me from letting that desperate rhythmic knife stroke cut too deep. Or that time when I lived in a home that was filled with raised voices and swinging fist, I found in writing the strength to not become like the monsters that cared caged me.

I could go on, but the long story short is it saved my life.

At my weakest points -and I have many of those- writing made me like God.

I could create whole worlds. I could weave entire tales that put into tangible form the storms within my soul. I could face my dragons on the battlefields of my choosing. And when everything would become too much, I could engage in acts of blatant escapism; create light in my dark.

Short stories, poetry, prose; these have been my therapy. These have been my big tent revivals. These have seen me through the many wars with my depression, PTSD, and inability to come to the acceptance that no matter what I do, I will never have a better past.

It isn’t just my writing, though.

No. The writings of others has had much the same thunder clap punch to my soul. I’ve been lifted up, guided through moments when my words weren’t enough, and taken to the mountain to glean the wisdom of the hermit who waits patiently to give us strength.

Writing.  It is like breath.

It is what I do. It is what I hope to do. 

I hope it is what you do. I hope that you come and stay a while. Share stories. Tell tales. Because if this is what you do, I am humbled and honored to meet you.

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About Z.

Poetic pipe and cigar enthusiast rifling through the haunted memories of a not so distant past while openly wrestling with faith and God. A rambling writer with the misguided notion that he has something to say. His only redeeming qualities are his wife and children.
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