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When I was a kid, I wrote…a lot. I was the type of kid who kept journals, who constantly wrote poems, stories, essays, articles and I had a dream diary. I always had notebooks with all sorts of thoughts and ideas. Sometimes they were just notes to myself, conversations with myself but other times it was like I was writing letters to people who would never read them. I just needed to express myself…the emotions, the thoughts, would just erupt. But it wasn’t enough. Words alone weren’t emptying the gaping festering wounds in my heart and mind that forced me to write in the firstRead More →