That feeling when you know what to write about, but you have no idea how to articulate it…

It probably doesn’t make much sense, or perhaps, it does?

All I’ve got is random titles written down at the moment. Ideas often pop into my head and then I often repeat the words until I find my pen and paper.

In the beginning of my writing journey, I started with lyrics. But when you don’t know how to play any instruments, it can be tricky to create music.

From an early age, I excelled at reading intially. I believe I was 6 or 7 when I wrote a song for the first time. My younger self was so ambitious, I miss that about myself.

The confidence with performing in front of other people, could I have that back please?

With how introverted I am now, it’s kind of strange how at ease I was as a child.

Many complex situations later, here we are.

Creativity has always been a coping method, a way of escaping reality.

Escapism in the form of stories, self-narrated poetry and lyrics.

Truth be told, I was quite bad at it in the beginning. Practice makes perfect, is my motto. I’m always learning though.

Wouldn’t call myself a superb writer, but most of my writing is either loosely or heavily based on real life situations and emotions, so bear that in mind.

Imagination and creativity are both a blessing and a curse. Not everything is about one person, one time and place.

Some might be more forward or cryptic than others. How people interpret my work is up to them. If you can relate to any of it, I don’t know whether to apologize or feel less alone?

An outlet is necessary, whether you write in a journal or you express them through a blog.

Well, that’s enough of me rambling on here. I’ll see you on the next one.

Mila. Xo