The Bond between Myself Paper and Pen
By: NHM AKA Nadynezworld
MY RESPECT FOR THE CRAFT THAT SAVES ME
You embraced me from youth, taught me that self expression was necessary for growth. You tamed my rages, replaced my tears with self reflection. You raised me through artistry, encouraged my unique qualities and allowed me room for improvement. When I didn't produce you allowed yourself to be reread crumbled and discarded to then be recycled and refined through trial and error. You were best friend when friends were few, you listened when Others ignored. No matter what time of day here you are cheering me on every step of the way! I love thee NHM
I wrote my first poem at 8 years of age for a teacher Named Richard Butcher may he rest in peace. He was the meanest man to all his students and yet with me he had a soft spot. He was a stickler for perfection and told me my handwriting was an atrocity, obviously that meant bad but I had no idea then. He got me a marble notebook as a gift and told me to keep a journal. One in which I had to make entries, after a few months my handwriting got better and he got me a notebook with paper that had no lines. He said I challenge you to learn to write so straight that you don't need lines. That took some getting use too but I did it and until this very day I prefer paper without lines. Unintentionally he taught me that lines were similar to boundaries, and some things you can't imprison with limitation!
By the young age of 8 I had already met challenges in life, things no child should experience, but writing was instrumental in helping me recuperate. I fell in love with the ability to express myself in either the direct approach or metaphorically and knew instantly that writing was my thing. Fast forward through the years that follow and life struck one blow after the other. I still am not sure if I've truly caught my breath, never had time to inhale after one tragedy before the next came head on. People are quick to say how strong they believe I am, but with complete humility I can tell you that without the blood sweat and tears I've left on paper I'm truly not sure I would have survived.
Writing is truly my best friend, it doesn't judge or leave you, it is loyal and when fully embraced can take you places no movie, social media or turn up can! It silently educates you, gives you an outlet a therapist can't. It listens and gives you the ability to endure the darkest of moments. No topic is off limits, no boundary is set. When people ask me why do I love writing Followed by comments like "it's boring" I can only respond like this. Society and technology have ruined the simplest pleasures in life! Playing in the park is almost non existent, writing a letter is ancient and worst of all imagination has died and been replaced with remakes of everything that already had it's time. Poetry use to be romantic and tragic, a book use to be educational, I still can not bring myself to read a book from my iPad, the smell of the pages still inspires me. The love I have for literature is something I will never let go. I thank God everyday that I was raised in an era where reading and writing were major classes you needed to pass, imagine my shock when I found out that children today don't even have the privilege to learn how to write in script. Teachers like Mr. Butcher gave children like myself an outlet that truly was life saving.
Teachers like him are few now, which is why our youth is poisoned by modern technology, why these kids will stare at a phone or a computer screen all day but can't pronounce or spell simple words. It pains me to know that the books that inspired me are no longer in production because the world is thirsty for ratchet television and emojis. I will never forget how Judy Blume indirectly taught me to love myself no matter what, or How the book Angel taught me how bad lying was. I will forever be in love with Emily Dickenson's way of defining the world through her eyes, or Edgar Allen Poe who makes pain and love seem intertwined in some wicked delusional way. I will forever treasure How the Slave Narrative Of Frederick Douglas taught me how ugly hatred can be but through the most seemingly impossible trials to triumph is possible and bitter hearts never prevail.
I am in love with my craft and wish There we're enough words to illustrate how very much! Writing is life saving for me, and my respect for paper, whom was derived from a living organism and cut down for me to express myself is endless. I will forever be grateful that paper, pen, writing and Mr. Richard Butcher have been gifted to me. I have been molded by my losses and my pain, it is my immense affection for writing that harness even the hardest of pangs! I can step away after putting it all out on paper and say Thank you because this moment that I can read revise and rewrite remind me that I have survived! I am Alive I have survived! NHM
YOURS LITERALLY AND INTELLECTUALLY
NHM AKA NADYNEZWORLD
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