THE ABSENCE OF WORDS
In the silent night, where darkness clouds the world and emptiness envelops me. Staring blankly at God's creation, which seems to have vanished into thin air. My heart wanders far away to nothingness. A world that once flowed effortlessly now seems to have disappeared, and all that is left are whispers of what once was. I miss writing.
I miss the feel that flows from each word, made meaningful by my hand and heart. I miss the way words transport me to faraway lands, evoke emotions and feelings, and capture every bit of human experience. I miss how these letters, yet mighty words, commune with my soul and being. I miss the rush of adrenaline that comes with penning those words.
Most of all, I miss the sense of connection that comes with writing – the connection I feel with each character and the way they come alive under my pen. I miss how I connect myself with them and the world around me. Writing was my way of making sense in chaos, finding meaning in human emotions. My voice in the midst of crowds and my happy moments.
But now, the absence of ink and voidness of words feels like a part of me is missing. The silence, emptiness, and disconnection are overwhelming – a constant reminder of what I have lost. I'm left in this lonely night, wondering if I'll ever find my way back to the pages where my words once flowed so effortlessly…