I love writing and hope to publish a book someday. If that doesn’t happen, I really hope I can at least help to improve literacy rates around the world.
I can’t imagine not being able to read or write. I’m beyond grateful to be in the position I am.
Oh, writing. I love it. I want to dedicate my entire life to telling stories.
The times I want to give up, I tell myself I’m closer than I realize. Besides, if I give up, I won’t make it. I can’t reap all the seeds I’ve sown in the last several years if I throw away all my pens and never buy any again.
Every professional writer was an amateur, an aspiring writer who didn’t quit even when they experienced rejection, failure. They kept going.
I like to believe I’m on the right path, heading in a direction towards a destination I will arrive at one day and be blown away. That’s some sentence, huh? The poet in me is coming out.
I can’t wait.
Wherever this life takes me, wherever I go, I’ll look ahead and regret nothing.
In my twenty years of life, I’ve learned that life is messy and ugly.
I tend to expect perfection from myself or something close to it. But if life isn’t perfect, how can I be?
I’m hard on myself, so hard. I’m trying to loosen up, take things easy. That doesn’t mean I don’t expect great things from myself. It just means when I do inevitably fail, I won’t beat myself down when I’m already on the ground.
I’ll pick myself up and carry on my way. Brush the dirt off. Keep walking.
I truly believe this world needs stories. We need art. Maybe I can supply both to the people who need it most. I’d be happy with changing one person’s life. In a good way, of course.
I’ve witnessed firsthand the power of storytelling. I know how powerful stories are. The right story at the right time can be life-changing.
Timing really is everything. Right place at the right time. When the stars and planets align.
One of these days the timing will be close to perfect. I’ll know with all my heart I’m where I should be. Then all this will be worth it. After all, I’m worth it.