Since I was in grade school I have wanted to be a writer. Oh there’s a long list of “I want to be a ____ when I grow up” but I’ve had a love of words for a very long time. I still even write letters (hand written) and mail them (via USPS) to 2 long time friends of mine. 2 doesn’t sound like many but ask around to how many of your friends still write letters in this age of iPads & text msg’ing.
I lay in bed sometimes and think of ideas for books. But I quickly shoot them down as to boring, to norm, to something. I am my own worst enemy. I have thought about taking courses to teach me how to compose a book but I toss that idea out. Convincing myself no one would want to read any rubbish I write. I mean there’s only 1 or 2 people who ever read my blogs. If I can’t get a small blog to be interesting how the hell will I get a whole book to?
The problem with my current employment sitch is that it stifles me. I am just another person tolling away for the man… living life the way others think I should. But I am a creative person. I daydream & think too much & plan, plan, never follow thru. (ADD much?!) I have great ideas and can even think outside the box usually. But turning this into a job opportunity has escaped me for 20+ years. I’m not much of an artist. I can barely draw or paint and I play no musical instruments. I say I can sing but in truth I don’t think I’m good. I use to write poetry… sometimes I’m inspired to still write it (rarely)… but usually I just let my creative side fizzle and die.
People say follow your dreams. I dont know what my dreams are.
I really REALLY have to stop this travesty.
I wish I could….