Everything and Nothing

Suffering is like anything else: live with it long enough, you learn to love the taste. Dressed in beautiful descriptions and fanciful truths my writing in its entirety is a story of suffering. One filled with ups and downs all too weighted on the downs. Perhaps, this is a result of finding it easier to write about what I know well, which is not ‘everything’ or ‘nothing’ but possibly a meeting between the two. The feeling of everything when in love and the feeling of nothingness when that love is gone. A suffering so deep that it inspires art, whether that be words that flow like poetry or simple truths long forgotten. A strange type of collateral beauty that gives comfort to the broken or affirms the whole. A story written about everything and nothing at all.

Throughout my life, I have been asked many things. However, the question as to why I write has always been one of my favorites. Raised on a steady diet of ‘young adult fiction’ books such as “CHERUB” and “Skulduggery Pleasant” (which I still read to this day) has had me telling stories from a very young age. It is only fate that great stories make equally great storytellers (if I may allow myself the compliment). I believe we all have a storyteller in us, the issue comes with translating all those marvelous stories into a language that can be understood and appreciated by others. These stories, however, don’t just come from the worn pages of books but rather from the moments that make memories. Whether that might be falling in love for the first time or getting your heart broken, losing a loved one or reuniting with a best friend after some time spent apart. Our best stories come from our truths, which is what you read from my blog: my truth, my pain and my finest moments through thi...