I need to write. This is more of a message to myself, because while I am writing this post right now and will write future posts-I am not spending all my time writing for me. I’m going to say the days have been busy, but I have been doing a daily journal type thing at the end of each day, so if I can write for two minutes then why not anytime else?
Because truthfully writing is a lot of work. And sometimes you really don’t want to do it. I’m not going to make some list of ways I need to improve writing time or even anything about time management (well, note to self maybe). I’m just going to write. This post. Right now.
It’s a cold October day and she’s starting to wonder how the year went by so fast. Is she going to be able to accomplish what she wants by year’s end? Will she struggle trying to figure this out? Most probably. Will she wonder whether she made the right decisions? Who knows really (well, she does hopefully).
As she sits on her comfy bed to write yet another blog post, she thinks about the day ahead and the day that has passed. It was alright. It wasn’t bad. It could have been better, but it wasn’t terrible. Is she hoping to be the next great female writer? A bestseller would be nice, but the key is to write the book first maybe. No, you see she already is a writer. And great in her own right if not perfect, but covered in poetic bruises.
So she sat and she thought that the time was looking late, but she had to think some more about the option of sleep. But, sleep will happen because sleep occurs mostly in a warm, comfy place that is hers alone. The very same place where her mind begins to think of the stories in her head. She only wishes she could remember the awesome things she dreams in her head.
Until then, she will continue to dream. To write and to think. Because her life is made up of these moments and as she sits smiling over this post, she knows as much is true even if the post itself makes very little sense.