Deciphering “Unusual”
Deciphering “Unusual” poetry stories
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thetwistmaker
thetwistmaker At the edge of unconscious.
Autoplay OFF   •   4 months ago
when will we even write for ourselves?

Deciphering “Unusual”

When asked about the things I wanted to write, I always answer that I wanted something "unusual."

I can anticipate the raised brows; the initial confused reactions, and the curious stares.

I don't know either what's with "unusual."

Do writers need to write about the trends? For fame? For living?

Writing as an art has been loosely perceived as writing for someone else. We write love letters for those we love. We write stories for readers. We write poems to express our feelings.

When will we even write for ourselves?

Is it unusual if I choose to write what I intend to read, rather than what other people expect of me to write?

Is it unusual creating my world and escape for a while through words?

I wanted to write something unusual.

Like how the sun betrayed to give me hope. Like how the waters drowned my serenity. Like how triumphs underestimated me more. Like how trusting someone gave me issues.

When will I even read my works without worrying that it's not the reflection of how other people want me to write, rather a manifestation of my identity?

Isn't art supposed to reflect ourselves?

Isn't art supposed to let us free?

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