I don’t go outside much. I go to Hunter College, literally a few blocks away from Central Park (the closest thing to full-on nature in the middle of the concrete jungle that is Manhattan), yet I’ve made no conscious effort to visit the place. I’ve either had to go directly home after classes or dedicated my free time to studying or doing personal work in the college library.

The word “Nature” to me feels subjective. What is nature for someone who absolutely enjoys spending his days indoors, writing stories and poetry to pass the time? To me, nature is anything that has to do with outside, I don’t necessarily have to be there to appreciate it’s beauty. In a way, nature is one of my greatest assistants as an introverted creative writer. I’ve spent many a late hour typing away at my computer, doing my best to combat writer’s block and and fight the urge to message my already-sleeping girlfriend to ask for help with an idea that I know she wouldn’t be able to fully assist me with.

So I turn to look out my window. The starlit sky above the fluorescent light-bulbs that could tell stories about the millennia through which they existed, what worlds and existences they shed light over, how they may have even been worshiped by other beings out there. This was nature to me; tranquility and and inspiration come to me easily in this state, as my mind wanders from idea to idea freely with every star my eye landed on whenever I wasn’t typing. As one would commonly lose themselves in nature, as the saying goes, I lost myself in the dark space between the stars to create minds and worlds and words and lines that could come together and help me write. Stormy nights are the best; I can’t sleep when it rains, thus I write until my eyelids drop out of exhaustion. The violent sounds and looming clouds help me write about times of tension and conflict. This is one of the pure shows of power that nature has that effects my writing.

The next thing I know, the sky has brightened into a soft blue, the white clouds wisp across the morning sun, and my writing stupor is shattered upon the sound of my cellphone alarm blaring rock music.

Nature is an escape from the cold and the restrictive, much like how Central Park’s natural liveliness stands out through the stone and metal of Manhattan. Perhaps it would help you as well, to follow what I do in order to write. Sometimes all you need is music, a quick binge watch of your favorite TV Show or Anime, or even a general break from writing in general. However, more often than not, just losing myself in the nature that is just outside my window yet too far to reach is what allows me to really become able to freely and smoothly create.

I sometimes listen to this playlist when I write