Writing is one of those exceptionally few things that keeps my head above water; above the looming depths of the slings and arrows that are life and its synonymous workings.

If I could write as much as I thought, I could swim in an ocean of heartfelt words that came from my soul, no matter how tattered, heartbroken or cruel some may be, they will always be there to comfort me with their soothing paper cuts that keep me alfoat like nobody ever has nor I doubt will.

I write because I am a member of the human race — this keeps me alive.

That choking feeling that scratches its way up your throat, where you feel everything flood you at once where you can't breath, your face flushes, you feel faint: writing soothes the lingering inundation.

I have loved storytelling and writing since before I could even write a single word or read. From as young as four, I would simply squiggle lines into my journals and would always be able to point and explain what I "wrote" in excellent memory regardless of its theoretical incoherence and silliness. Funnily enough, until I turned ten, I had immence difficulty in reading and writing in the language I grew up with (English) and in my native language especially (German), which I continue to struggle in to this day, but that has never stopped me from getting my narrative across in any way shape, form or language. I will fight tooth and nail to have you hear a penny of my thoughts and understand them.

I was raised in the Uk, although having been born in Germany with a German-Ghanaian mother and Scotsman of a father, later moving at the age of three to the country I know best as home: England.

Writing is one of those very special things I doubt I'll ever part with; even if I get dementia at the ripe age of ninety (If I have the liberty to live that long) and forget every other part of my life, I know this burning ember will never leave my soul for it simply burns too stubbornly bright.

You, my dearest, reader, can call me Joe.

Minaaa

@Quackdocter

Minaaa has not written a story.