Writing is the emotional morphine.
A human being basically could not live alone. I had always thought of one’s soul as an imperfect creature; God had created it that way to allow the need to exist –the need to have relationships with other people in order to always run after the one obsession that had humanity seeking it on regular basis –perfection. Whether that relationship was between family members, friends, co-workers or even a romantic relationship, it was always people’s way to achieve flawlessness since they couldn’t accomplish it on their own.
