I'm itching.. Again..
The urge to write can be deadly sometimes. The need to organize my thoughts, my dreams, my life.. Everything is postponed, everything is useless, until I write down what I have to say. It's mystical in a way, because I can't really explain it.. It's just an urge that seems to be powerful enough to pause everything around it, and stop me right where I stand, freezing me on the spot until I get it out.. My life starts to pass in slow motion, my brain stops processing.. and the only thing that makes sense is a blank page to write.. an empty space to scream.

I think it all goes down to screaming.. Our first reaction to life: SCREAMING!
It doesn't need to mean anything.. It doesn't need to lead to anything.. Just a scream to say: "I exist! WORLD, hear me now! I exist!"

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