Because I cannot be otherwise. Because in every moment, every day words are pouring out of me like water from the overflowing bathtub. Because ideas and thoughts appearing in my head select words fussily joining them in phrases and sentences which then swarm towards the exit. And when I try to hold them back I feel tightness in my chest and pain of the suppressed voice which, for any price, wants to become known.
Because when I don’t write – I wither. The world pins me to the ground and takes my breath away. I become a fountain without water – unattractive, neglected and deprived of the sense of existence.
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