It was written in the sky.
I started working on something the other day, and I think it's really going somewhere. I'm not sure what my future as a novelist will look like, it's not even my aspiration really, but maybe I'll actually write something worth being published someday.As of now, I am still captivated by the idea of writing for a magazine... and perhaps being an editor someday. It's just the kind of life I want; the things I can see myself doing whenever I close my eyes and imagine my future-self.
But I have all these faces floating around in my head, and all these voices whispering stories to me; stories that apparently locked up in the back of my mind. And then there are the dreams... these crazy, ridiculously real dreams that I can't seem to shake each morning. I cannot help but write it all down. I feel like my mind is creating these things for a reason, and I must capture them all. And, of course, once I have, I can't help but continue working on them. It's an obsessive ritual.
I'm not sure if I'll ever share these stories with anyone, but it makes me happy to know that I'm doing something... creating something. It's like a sigh of relief, my writing is. I'm brushing away the clutter in my mind that's been bogging me down, and yet I'm not losing anything at all.
On Tuesday, July 28, 2009 at 2:10 PM
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