Writing is and will always be my very personal  mental therapy. I’ve been writing on and off for a decade now and I am sure that my sanity is still intact because of this writing practice.

Today, I found another proof that this writing practice is essential for me. This morning, I had a rough start. Usually, I can just pass it all, considering all the bitter words from her are just that- words, weightless, comes from her own bitter memories. The sting has gone, but I admit, I still get irritated by this drama.

The irritation makes my head full, and I just can’t wait for the window period where I can sit and have some time to write. And after just a paragraph, my mind clears up. I know I don’t have to do a thing, if a person had bitter past memories, it’s not my job to make her calm, if she can’t handle her own bitter mind, nobody can.

Writing saves me. It probably sounds weird, but I guess people who hold on to a craft in whatever form could get me. I write because I need to… Not because I want to be famous or bla bla bla…

Make art my lovelies, any form of art of your choosing. I think it will lighten your days.

Karin Sabrina