A Flood Amongst a Drought

Words... Words are strange little creatures aren't they? Strung together in the right order, they can bring understanding to a cloud of confusion...All they're made of is letters and dots and dashes in a particular order but they can say so much more than we intend, but sometimes never being able to voice the very essence of a soul.

I think I've had a love of words and letters since I've learnt how to write. I remember in feathered wisps my first attempts at recreating letters I read in a book, trying to capture the grace and elegance of each letter, attempting to transfer the sound of the letter in the stroke of a pencil. For me, I had a wonder in learning how to write, a sense of wonder which I can feel slipping away from the fresh-faced new generations.

Those who have seen my handwriting now will know it is something much more than the materialisation of thought into something more tangible. It's a form of therapy, helping to keep my mind at ease whilst simultaneously etching my memories into paper. In case you're wondering, this was not always the way I regarded handwriting, it's more of a development this year. I guess keeping pages of journals inspired an epiphany: that I have an insatiable thirst for words and text. Writing is just one manner of satisfying the thirst, but the only problem with writing is that it's such a solitary act.

I'm sure that each and every person has that thirst for communication, whether it is through words, voices or writing. I managed to find someone who can send me the river of words, who cured the drought of solitary writing. I find myself feeling a tad greedy, wanting to hear and drink more words than I deserve. But the truth is, I find myself returning and sharing the words with such ease that I no longer feel parched. I wish sometimes that I could etch each and every word spoken into journals, but the truth is that there are too many words to remember them all.

That's why the words spoken have to count. They have to be sincere, Pure. Honest. So dear readers, make all your words count, you never know whose drought you might be able to end.

Until we meet again
Talia