Month: January, 2016


I want to learn how to paint difficult things like smoke, glass and the veins that run up and down my body right underneath my skin.


North London


I have so many words within me that need to come out. On paper, through a keyboard or in just any other way possible. Writing for me is so important. I NEED to write. It is a need different from that need one of my corridor mates expressed last year. “I need raspberries” he said as he walked in to the kitchen. He also said “I need to watch TV so that I can get on with studying later”. Both of those things I think he would survive without but I know that without writing I will be a less happy human being. I need to write.

So why then has this autumn been one of the autumns where I have written so much less than all the autumns in my past teenage life (or from whatever point I started writing)? Last autumn I wrote an over 9000 words long document about the six weeks from when I met him to when he asked me out. There was so much doubt and hope in that document mixed with the notion that something was bound to happen between us. I wrote in my diary, I wrote about my worries, I wrote essays, I messaged my friends and I jotted down phrases that just sounded good on random bits of paper. Why did I stop?

I think there is no real use in asking myself why but I know that it is time to start writing again. Bit by bit. Word by word. Letter by letter.

It just needs to come out.