Member-only story
On Writing
Inked intellect
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It’s tough to accept yourself as an overthinker in a world that constantly reminds you that overthinking is a waste of time and energy — a world that values instantly gratifying, two-minute tasks over thought-provoking, deep pieces of literature. Some things gain popularity only after they are declared cult classics, even though they may lie unnoticed for years. I don’t think any of the things that exist today would have materialized if someone hadn’t ‘overthought’ them. But who likes listening to overthinkers anyway? I’ll tell you who: blank pages, pens, and ink.
Writing, to me, is one of the most beautiful things to ever exist. Just as books are some of the greatest inventions in the history of humankind, writing is what makes those inventions possible.
It’s incredibly beautiful to express the tiniest desires and aspirations of my heart through words and onto paper. To craft the most creative and unusual ideas that my mind imagines into a story. I can pour my thoughts onto a page in letters, words, and sentences, effectively transferring my mind onto paper.
What makes writing even more beautiful is the reader. Maybe I write a fantastical, otherworldly scene while imagining something specific in my mind — the colors, contours, dimensions, lighting, and details…
