Let me tell you...

Let me tell you why I write and how painful it is to write in this blog every now and again.  

I write, for the purpose of writing, to express the thoughts of my inner soul, myself, and what I feel that can be transcribed into words, much like... a medium of art; technically it is "art".  My art opens a window into my soul, which you can peek in through now and again to see what I felt on this day, at this time.  

I write, for the purpose of writing, to express the thoughts that are significant, or most significant at this time, that I deem to be significant, and that is judged by the pain that I describe later in this blog.  

You see, everytime when I write in this blog, it hurts because of all the sad events that occur, that might occur, or will occur.  And in this diary, which I call, will soon be chalkful of painful memories, which I intend to leave in the dust behind me.  But what's ironic is that the writing here becomes permanent, and can never go away, much like the events that have occurred in my life.  It hurts to write a painful memory and so, it hurts to write in here because of the trigger that I know this is a book of pain, my pain.  

And the most significant part? It hurts the most to write in here, because I know I'm going to write about something sad, something that angers me, something that makes me confused, something that starts to chew away at myself and I start to lose a part of myself and I fall into an abyss of darkness (for imagery).  

And it becomes writing with my own blood.

The most strangest part? 

I write because it hurts, but at least it reminds me that I'm human.  I guess it's going to be impossible to have a reaction of... "oh no" when I tell you that I wrote something in my blog now.  Maybe... it didn't have to be this way, but it was, and it's not going to change.  

The thing on my mind that caused me to write this?  I can't think of another thing, other than the drama and sad songs that touch just the right chord and of course, silence.