How vain it is to sit down to write...

...when you have not stood up to live. - Henry David Thoreau.

Many a night has passed, since I first put pen to paper, when these words of Thoreau began to haunt me, and many more such nights have not yet come to pass. Then why, notwithstanding the risk of being branded arrogant, do I continue?

I write because my reason finds voice through letters more readily than my voice finds words to reason. The answer is not justified, but cathartic, I know. However, it is one of the few cures that I have found to treat my ailing soul which breathes with a fervent restlessness for its thoughts to last for ever. And this brings me to my next post...

Sha Naqba Imuru.