sometimes when you write something, to make the readers feel, you have to use your own words, and intertwine them with the readers' memories.
sometimes words alone are not strong enough. sometimes words alone are dry, a desert of letters, dead and still, piling up on top of each other. the words start to move, when a memory comes through like a wind, stirring every character in its wake.
sometimes you don't even feel what you write. you know it's supposed to be this way or another, put something in, some words, rearrange them, to induce pain, sadness, melancholy. sometimes it is only after you experience that feeling yourself, something personal, that you'll not only understand, but truly feel.
and at this stage, it's hard to go back to not feeling. a word, which used to mean only itself, now makes you think about another thing, another word, a situation, a person perhaps.
and some of us live for that moment of transformation.