French writer Georges Perrosonce said, “On Ă©crit parce que personne n’écoute”, which translates to “we write because no one listens”. And so writing becomes a beautiful, powerful act of expression and resilience against all voices that may have been surrendered and clouded by the loud noise of a hollow crowd that fails to see the grey areas hiding beneath spoken words. To weave words onto paper, to imprint thoughts in ink, and to hold the pen as you write empowers you to relive and feel the emotions once again. We hope to understand ourselves better when we write. We hope people understand us, and lastly, we hope people see the world through our eyes.Â
Through characters and stories, we strive to find meaning, a message, and truth in a world where not everything lasts forever and more than one reality exists. Written words on a page are like a photograph, capturing a single moment that lasts forever; they remain within their frame, never moving beyond the time or place in which they were created. Instead, on the page, words imprint the essence of one’s inner world and feelings hidden deep within.
One moment, we are captivated and charmed by the delightful presence of words, making us feel like we’re on top of the world. The next moment, we are stunned by the horrid gravity of what one word can do, luring us away from the thousands of flowery words that have flourished in our souls. We pour our hearts into the words we write; our emotions fuel the flames of the letters to be written. At last, unlike the quick heedless flow of the words we speak, the tranquil pacing of time required to write on paper makes writing a delicate, sentimental experience filled with passion and depth.Â
I believe most writers are driven by the desire to make sense of their own world and surroundings. Perhaps inspired by their own life experiences, they write stories to show both the perplexity and simplicity of life. Other times, a writer will create a world unlike their own, to explore the realm of wonders and endless possibilities. Nevertheless, it is such a pleasure and privilege to write freely from the mind and soul. How would we understand the beauty of sisterhood if Louisa May Alcott never wrote Little Women? How would we know about the corrupting influence of external validation and greed if Oscar Wilde never wrote The Picture of Dorian Gray? What would the world be like, if no one wrote love letters? At the root of it all, writing makes us feel alive and makes us understand people, even if they fail to speak a word.Â
French-American diarist and essayist Anaïs Nin once beautifully said, “We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.” It is almost as if we live and feel the stories we write once again, leaving part of ourselves behind—hoping that one day, someone will resonate with us, that one day, someone will have the courage to start seeing the light of goodness even in the darkest tunnels of life. We yearn for a world in which everyone, from all walks of life, feels understood and heard.