The Cat with Nine Lives

My love for writing has existed as long as I have been able to write. At first it was a way of me explaining the world around me. I remember age 6 writing a story about how a hedgehog got its spikes just simply because at that age I had no concept of evolution or how things came to be just that there must be a reason. My early stories are almost all fable like in their style.

When I grew older and my comprehension of the world was more clear, I would use my imagination as a form of escapism. If I had had a bad day at school I would come home and just sit in silence thinking about a far away world where things were different. It felt almost as though I had another life, and I created so many worlds in my head that I effectively had multiple lives. My way of keeping these multiple worlds and stories alive was by writing them down, so that after a while I could reread the stories and be transported back to those worlds that I had not been to for a while.

Poetry came to me a lot later, and arrived with my love of nature. Living in London, I crave the beauty of the countryside, and the only way I know how to bring these places home with me, is not by photographs but by my own descriptions of what I have seen. I find these are easier to portray with poetry rather than with prose. I often don’t understand what I think about these places until I have written those thoughts down. This sounds strange but it’s the only way I know how to be. I feel like a cat with nine separate lives.

Raison D’être


One thought on “The Cat with Nine Lives

  1. randomwanderingblog says:

    I understand what you mean by writing helps you creating so many different lives. This is the reason why I have had a crush for words so far. One word after another, despite what forms they are in, sometimes they happen to be endless. And then of course, there are times words happen to be unformed too. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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