When I write, I lose myself; when I write, you and I melt into one; when I write, the earth stops turning and the oceans freeze. After a while, it does not matter if my words are beautiful or if you’re truly drawn to who I have become. Words are more than letters on a page; each one of them contains a whole continent, a door to a universe of unexplored connections and newborn memories.

On paper, our worst fears seem insignificant, sorrow is transformed into pure energy, frustration sustains the will to live, abandonment gives birth to a million possibilities. For the briefest of moments, the creator truly is god- it makes no difference whether the end result will be a masterpiece or a spiritual disaster.

Whatever entity or accident brought us into this world, we were only given three gifts: drugs, the knowledge of our own death, and a limitless imagination. Call them curses, if you wish, but it is they that make us who we are; it is they that define the nature of humanity itself.