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PHILOSOPHY

Writing is an art, and it is a portrait. It paints a picture in one’s mind, one’s thoughts. People play music, draw, or write to express their emptions. They create. Writing, out of them all, expresses the emotion of anyone. A depressed Percy Weasley, a raging Jason Todd. A curious Pidge Gunderson or a badass Deckard Shaw. You can mold your own fantastical world using only a keyboard or, perhaps, a fountain pen and ink-well on parchment. No one has the right to judge. Most importantly, messages are portrayed. The most popular form of a main theme is portrayed in poetry, a concept that is so hard to find and tedious to the pre-college student in English class. Hard to grasp, hard to remember, and hard to write. The writing I do mostly addresses modern topics. I might dabble in politics, or I might delve into more serious regions of thought. Most popular to myself is subjects that are hard to breach, one’s that I am not comfortable with. In order to become a better writer, and to become better in anything, you must do what you are uncomfortable with. Color in black in white instead of colour. Write with a pen and not a oencil. Use cursive. Speak in another language. Etcetera, etcetera. For me, some of these tooics are those of self-harm, suicidal thought—for I can’t bare to dispatch a character—self-hate, bullying, mental dislrders such as PTSD, rape or other forms of physical and mental abuse. Reading this, you might wonder what sort of person I am. A sadist, perhaps? Do you think me an anti-social tenaged boy base of my profile, or perhaps a depressed adult? Maybe a teen struggling with life, even a girl trying to make a new life? People view me as multiple things, and, yes, I do use a mask. My closest friends know me, the few I have, and I give you my word. I rarely keep a promise, but always my word. I used to find these subjects uncomfortable, trying to imagine myself in their position, trying to see another in that pisition, going as far as to pretend to attempt one to myself to see how characters and other people have felt. And through reading, I have been able to gather a semblance of how it all feels. And my profile picture? I was going on a Percy Weasley spree and I stumbled upon that rather nice peice of fanart. I’m considering perhaps writing a fanfiction about it. Percy Weasley and the avada kedavra? Why not! And my friend said he looks rather striking in that photo.

The fictions I wrote are erratic. I have it all planned: in my head, on sticky notes scattered abou or the tiny notepax in my backpack. I simply have no time. I do suffer from some self-diagnosed mental disorders, and if you want to talk to me about your chemical imbalances in your brain, feel free to PM me. I am not a cold-hearted, mind my language, bastard. The ficfions I write, beside being erratic, are not often completed, though I strive to complete them. It’s hard to stay on one topic with so many thoughts, and I know many of you feel the same. But, be pre-aware, I do try.

FanFic requests accepted, with category and caractors in order of preferences