I want to write something beautiful, I don’t know what but I hope that I’ll soon know. I believe I like writing because somehow I too want to depict scenes. The problem is that I don’t have much to say. However, I like words so much I spend a great deal of time reading them. I am in the habit of always picking them up everywhere I find them. I make lists of them if I find strange and odd words and the more I know about a particular word the more I become interested in it. I find my relationship with words a strange one because I often find them difficult to deal with only to comeback to them later. I also tend to forget them very easily and at times it bothers me when I can’t spell them. It causes me to wonder if am not developing Alzheimer’s or some sort of mental ailment. But in general my relationship with words tends to be friendly. I gather great joy out of them when using them as I write along and quietly detect how words link phonetically to each other.