Monday, July 5, 2010
I recall summers as a child where days were spent in seemingly endless play and nights found me curled up in bed reading one of my favorite books. As a child, my dream was to write books like the ones I loved so dearly. Not only was it my dream to write, but to write well enough to touch someones heart...like I had been touched.
That dream held strong all the way into college where I gained a degree in English with a focus on creative writing. I felt my words finally began to blossom when I was in my last year of school, they were coming together easier and manifesting into a style all my own. When I entered the work world again...it all stopped. I didn't start writing again until about two years ago. I wasted more than 12 years.
I am writing now though, dammit! Even if it is this little, insignificant blog into which I pour my most diligent efforts into almost daily. At least I've finally taken a step back towards reaching my childhood dreams and I am doing it in a city I have always loved...a city where I finally belong. That's got to be something right?
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