Someone asked me a few days back, why do you write so much? What you get out of it? 
I couldn’t reply at that moment and brushed aside the question with a smile. Maybe because the things, people closest to you are the most difficult to describe to others. 
Still, i’ll try. 
I am an atheist. What i have heard from people about how they pray and why they pray and what they feel after it kind of echoes as something that i feel after i write. 
Writing to me is what praying/religion/god is to people. I am most honest in life while i write and sometimes feel the need to stop lest i would spill the beans of my soul too much. The words that i pen, the feelings that i share are my reality, my truth. 
I feel, in each and every piece that a writer pens down, a part of her soul is reflected. 
Writing gives me happiness, gives me strength, gives me confidence and gives me courage to walk the path of life. 
The sentences that i create, the words that i select, the feelings that i describe are my creations and after finishing each piece, it becomes a part of my existence, a part of my soul that i chose to bare to the world. 
So, this blog is in answer to my friend’s question. But, like every other piece, its also a part of me.