Monday, 4 March 2013

Writer's Block

There was once, when ideas could just flow freely out of my mind, and my hands could type like a bird pecking on its food, continuously. But I have not been reading much these days, therefore I have not got much to write about. I remember that I once read somewhere that reading books are like living in another life, altogether. Through reading, we can fantasise about things that are unreal to us, that could not be realised in reality. Books are like dreams, but a little bit different. You rarely can choose to dream what you want, but you can always pick the books that you would like to read. Sentences are amalgamation of words woven from letters, from which a tale of anything can be told to anyone. Writers may remain anonymous, and the readers can sometimes grasp the emotion of the writers that are being conveyed through their words.   The existence of writing make it possible to elevate a part of us that will exist in perpetuity, lest it become lost by incidence. The advent of internet has made our footprint, invincible to the wrath of time.  Our writing can remain accessible for as long as the internet lives on. Hallelujah! :p

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