Someone asked me one time why was that that I loved writing so much and I literally paralyzed for an instant – it wasn’t even on purpose. It was like if someone was asking me why was that that I loved living so much, why was that that I loved breathing so much – it was the kind of question you don’t have an answer for. So, I internalized the words and, afterwards, I took a deep breath. I looked this person in the eye and smiled, because I was feeling so much passionate in that moment, while I was thinking about the reasons I loved what I do, I couldn’t help it but smile. There was just too many reasons and, at the same time, none.
I had never wondered why I loved writing, the same way I had never thought about the reasons for loving to breathe. From a long time till now, it was just something that I did, that I enjoyed doing, that I couldn’t live without. And that’s the thing about passions – you can never find the right words, or enough words, to describe them. (mais…)