Not everything makes us feel at home. The ones that make us feel so, are for us. Just for us. Some find it in family. Some find it in love. Some find it in friends. I find it in English. I read a lot. And I try to write a lot. A lot of which is just purified crap, but I like it. I review books (not that crappy). I write about the simple things in life. I write about a few of my experiences. I write about anything that I like to write about.
I don’t write to celebrate anything phenomenal. I write to celebrate the simple language that fills me with joy, pride and confidence, English. I write because I love that language.