The importance of Pen and Paper

Ever since I was young, I had an addiction.
It started off as an innocent obsession with school supplies. Every kind. It could have been a Lisa Frank eraser, a crayon box, notebooks, and pens especially. So I obsessed. And as time went on I became addicted. I fed my addiction, and by 4th grade it narrowed down to pens and paper. Especially the notebooks with three sections made by FiveStar. I was more excited for school supplies shopping than Christmas or my birthday. No Joke.

I mean come on. You can get so many pencils and eraser's for like 5 dollars. Notebooks are a little more bang in the bucks but you cant just get any notebook, it has to be the One notebook that will comfortably let you write all thoughts in mind.

So I went crazy over pens, notebooks, diaries, pencils and even drawing notebooks. With the diaries is where I found my love; writing. My fourth grade year is when I felt I had things to write about. When 5th grade came along and I was presented with a poem I found a way to write about myself and others. Then the writing became more of a necessity. I would feel literal pain within my heart if I hadn't written in a few days or weeks (depending on the situation) And it never mattered what it was I wrote about, it had to be said. The dumbest mundane thoughts that crossed my mind were written. Even if I didn't even know what to think about a subject, or I was just skipping thoughts for my more obvious ADD moments, I wrote. Sometimes in the end having no purpose, other than too ease my body, loosen and free my mind, work off some steam.

So I'm not the greatest writer, nor am I really that good. I'm just lucky. My hands do the speaking for me drawing out words.

Writers are artist too. They speak with their hands, and their words are masterpieces. An excellent speech to be said a front the most Eloquent persons to having ever walked the earth. They are one meaning and one meaning only. Nevermind the many thoughts or ideas of what others think it means. It was written for one's thought, and when dug in and torn apart, dissected, it still only meant that one thought. Not much room for any more imagination others thought necessary to include.

Again I'm an addict of writing.
I Stephanie Hernandez am a Writaholic. Ive failed being "sober". Since I'm writing this blog. Im proud. Gosh-Darn-it.