An overview of the rambling I call writing. |
I have been writing since I could hold a pencil. I was a lonely child. I wrapped books around me like a security blanket, shielding myself from the cold world. I had a natural talent then, always ahead of my class. I knew I was born to write. By high school I realised I lacked any actual experience to write from. I set forth on an unfortunate path to discover all the dark parts of the world that eventually overcame me. My classmates moved forward fulfilling their dreams, while I dove into the depths of addiction still searching for what I couldn't see. I mapped out the great novels that would come from my experiences. I wrote, but every passing month a little less. Until one day I realised I had gone too far. There was nothing left of me but regret. I had a child, got married, and worked towards a comfortable life. I wanted to write but felt I had left my skill behind. The effortless poems that used to fill volumes no longer seemed adequate. I let my dream die, praying somehow it would come back to me. It won't come back, I have to breathe life back into it. I have come here for guidance and inspiration. If this is my destiny, I will follow the path. |