Time

Time, it passes by without moments to spare. Taken for granted, we abuse it, underestimated it. It flows without end,it is always there. It heals, but always kills. Full of memories that last forever, never the same, but always the same. Moment for moment, past to present, one to another. It never stops, it never ends. Always to be feard, never understood.

See, Hear, Speak

See with your eyes. Feel with them, think through them, see all, and be seen. Now close them, blind yourself. Hear the things you saw. Listen to the pain, the anger, the insanity, but hear the love, the happiness, and the joy. Speak now, tell of what you've seen, tell of what you've heard. Let them feel through your words, let all know. Through your voice, through your writings, inspire many. They need it, they need you, they need the guidance.

See it, hear it, now speak it. Someone will listen.

Why Do I Write?

 I've never actually asked myself " Why do I, Zachary Marcus Mitchell, write?" I hadn't really felt the need to even explain to myself why I do. I was so entranced by the satisfaction I had found through writing, I never felt the  need to question it. without really thinking about it, I found the reason I write.
 For some it maybe the world they escape to or the "person" they tell everything. Maybe they just don't have the ability to express their feelings, without pen and paper. I write to feel the satisfaction of the spot light. Even if I don't have the spotlight, I feel satisfied because I'm confident in my ability. I write to be heard, to even show off a lil' bit. But through the want of being praised, I write to guide others with my experiences.
This craft brings me joy unlike any other but, with that, I still feel the need to tell myself who I am. I write until I feel I've gotten what I needed to say, out. I write to find myself. Each story, each passage, each note, I step closer to finding me.