Some people like to say I’m a writer, and so I grew to believe that I can be the writer anyone would be inspired from. Now that I think about it, I am not a writer, for anyone can write such beautiful words. I can’t seem to utter beautiful words. I speak for my own self, making my words beautiful in my own eyes, but not knowing if others who read them think the same way. 

I think I’m a translator, the person who stands between one’s heart, mind and actions. I deciphers those heart beats into words as if they were Morse code, those blooming ideas into strokes of worded paint. I think we can all do that, if we try, and if we listen, and if we practice; it’s not a talent, it’s something we were born with and honed with time. So close your eyes and listen inwards, and wait to see what happens. Breathe in the world around you deeply, and forget the supposed rules of what is and what isn’t, because lines will only ever constrict what you can do. You can do anything if you give yourself a chance.