astronomy. // knj.

seas.

"ah..this is not okay"

i scratched the back of my neck, frowning at the sentences i just wrote on the paper; cutting out few words, wanting to bring a difference, but everytime i do, i keep on finding beautiful mistakes ㅡ the mistakes which are just to be removed as to bring out the perfection in the work.

i like to write on tranquil nights, followed by sirimiri, with the pleasant dewy petrichor filling up my nostrils, relaxing my mind. but i know the weather cannot work according to me, and so cannot my writing be always dependent on it.

"ah this is.."

a scrape could be heard as the chair i was stting on, got dragged on the floor due to my movement. i tried of thinking a topic again, but everytime i do, i remember i want to write something that has not been written yet. i want to write something different, something that leaves an everlasting effect on the reader.

yes i am on a writer block. its not like i don't have words to put in what i want to say, its just i don't have anything to say, and all i am doing is, trying to find a great topic.

chirping of birds, with a distant sound of construction was reaching my ears. it felt as if it was the sound of my mind. in a part it was bringing in thoughts and on the other they were getting destroyed.

readers are waiting for my new book, and here i am, struggling to even find a topic to write about. did i mention how much tensed i am since day 1? it might feel like it takes only a small amount of time to write a single chapter, but the brain behind it has spent more than hours and even days.

but that does not really matter when you write a good book. the pain while squeezing out the thoughts, does pay off.

people should appreciate every writer. not because they are getting to read what they write, but because they are reflecting their emotions on a piece of paper. should i write about these things? but wouldn't it be called a book for appreciation to writers? 

should i write about love? but everyone write about it nowadays, and it has gotten to be a cliché. should i write about hate? but it would just spread the negativity, and encouragement towards violence, and that is not what my motive is. should i write about my mind? but isn't it what writing really is? and what's in my mind right now is to think what is really on my mind.

it's complicated.

 i wondered, do we write about the topics we think about or do we write what our character feels under the light of those?

i felt an urge to find the truth of this world. a need to think about those things people write about. are those really beautiful or mournful? or is it jut another fictional world? i wanted to know.

"alright" i made up my mind to find out the answer myself. it is said, that if you cannot write, read in the meantime. so i am getting up to read, the world around me.

i was just a writer; writing about things i daydream about, things i cry about, things i relate to, things i reminisce about. i didn't really thought about having my own story as a fairytale or a nightmare.

i know people write about something which they see in their daily life or maybe what they wish for. but for me, honestly, i did not had anything to see in my life. or maybe i never tried noticing it. or maybe i never wished for something that can only be appreciated in fictional world.

little did i knew, i should appreciate these little things in life as a writer.

why don't i see the world through the eyes of a reader for once, or even a character. why don't i filter out my own capabilities with this world? 

_

;; he is a writer on a writer block, trying to find the truth about beauty in this world, only to find the main character of his own story.