“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”
― Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

To me writing is not a choice, it is a necessity. I feel as if I am resurrecting something when I put my pen to a blank page. I don’t want to be the best to the world, I want to be the best to me. I want to bring forth my soul unto paper, then look at it face to face. I write for myself…

But if it can touch someone out there, and the person can relate, it is a good thing because I then gave something to someone. I maybe planted a seed in them that will grow into something. I gave them something hopefully beautiful that will enrich them and help them grow.

And when I write I grow myself. I discover things about myself. I sometimes discover past pains that have not healed, and I write about them and get closure. I sometimes write something and realised that I have grown. That I have learned some wisdom in tragedy or an event.

Sometimes I write a load of shit, and sometimes I write something profound. I don’t write because I am empty, I write because I am filled, filled with so much I can share with others and even myself.

I write for myself. I write for love.


(c) 2017 allen wolfie simpson