I am an amateur writer who writes short stories and poems.



"I'd go crazy if I couldn't write."​

​

I had promised myself: I wasn't going to write a thing. What was writing anyway but a passion and greed? Here in the company of honest, upright people I was going to await death, quietly. What need did I have for greed an rage? But I couldn't do it. I ran to the tobacconist and bought pencil and paper. I sat down.I took out the pocketknife that I carried for whittling little sticks in case I got bored walking along the deserted roads of the island. I sharpened my pencil. Then I held it and kissed it. I'd go crazy if I couldn't write. 



Sait Faik, A Dot on the Map.



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Be grateful...