What is the last thing you expect to feel while writing? Not love, happiness, sadness or relief. They're all there frequently with the wisps of recollections penned down. The last thing I expected to feel was power.

It's as if instead of the ink, distilled power is what flows through the nib. The power to shape, mould, change, influence. Words come as early as thoughts do; if the thoughts stop, the words stop.

I have power over the words, and so, I have power over what my reader feels. A subtle change is all it takes– one word, one phrase, one structure is enough to give an entire piece a new meaning. To make it feel haunted and lonely or happy and satisfied.

To me, it also means that I have power over my own demons– I can capture them in words and pin them down to paper with the sharp nib and ready ink. It is a small power, but it is all that I need to feel in control – the bare fact that my raging demon spirits can be tamed by something as simple as words in ink. I can force them into shapes I know well– the hooked-ended 'w' or the liberal stroke of an 'i', the comfort of a simple 'l' loop or the beautiful complexity of an 'r'. They are the only things I have power over.
And yet, they give me power over so much more. So much more than just words.




Thanks for reading
XOXO
An

#powerofpen #journal
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