I never know how to write well, because when I draw there's no need for context, they're just lines; like in writing it's just words, together, intertwining. 

But now it's different, the question isn't rhetorical that I can only stand at a place and let them do everything anymore. I begin to wonder everything, how people see it so strange, I often abandon a lot of etiquette, so it is out of place if I don't ask, I feel stranded. 

The nature of arguing, I read somewhere, is to have valid points to drive us and achieve victory, in the materialistic world. I would argue, that my environment doesn't let me hold such value, and those were dismissed, diminished. Until there's thoughts to lead the mind to somewhere else, one always hope for something more "beneficial", "liberating", that's what they used. But I'd also argue, if I dip into anarchy, it'll be such mad world as well as a mad action to be done, maybe human has too much freedom they don't know what to do with it. Such thought leads to debris, I'd argue. From premise to conclusion, to narrow to make a point, maybe they're identical, art and everything else of writing. I can see the frame of what my painting would be, but I can merely see the frame for the words; such things I deemed limiting, such necessary framework, not any more. 

Someone used to say: "I was free once, and I used all that time to run towards a cage". Maybe that's what I'm doing. But to write more means I do care about the content of this, of things in life, then maybe one day it won't be as limiting, I won't feel so trapped. When a bird grows up in a cage, would it ever dream of flying away? Or would it stay because the thought never happens, and that no where else would the bird would want to be?