I know I could be a writer because I have a vivid imagination. Where people only hear words, I see tones, meanings and aims that can be far from reality. Yet, they are more than real to me. Reality, for a writer, is fiction. And fiction, sometimes, becomes reality.

I always had this problem. I cannot stick to the apparent or superficial. I give meanings to images, words and whatever. When I write, a great part of this problem is solved. I transport reality, or what I perceive to be reality, to fiction. And there’s also this: if I write based on intuition, sometimes fiction becomes reality. I don’t transport fiction to reality, as a norm.

Just to give you an example, once I thought I hated someone. I wrote a short story about shooting that person and run away. Don’t worry. It was just a toy gun. I don’t know how it happened, but I stopped hating that person. Keeping things inside that I believe to be true is hard. Talking about them is therapeutical. Just because I deal a lot better with the written words, I suppose I could be a writer.