Aida Zabidi
There is no need to pretend that my words are worth anything to anyone but myself. I write for the sheer love of writing, to be able to get my thoughts out of my head, and unto something tangible; almost like seeing my thoughts form from this half-coherent wisps inside my mind into something that I am able to see and read.

At times like these I don't even look at the screen.

I close my eyes and type, trusting in myself to hit the exact keys that will channel the thoughts I will think. My writing is fluid, and unconstructed, born only from the recesses of my idle mind, transmitted through my fingers.

It is a release of sorts. 

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