I want to create so badly. The need posses me, and it doesn’t let go until I’ve written, or until I’m left feeling guilty and useless for ignoring it. I lay awake at night, terrified of dying without making a difference. The need to be known occupies a special part of my brain. I cannot fathom an anonymous life. I must be read, and therefore, I must write.
So step inside, take a look, and fall in love with words as I do.
As always, thank you for the light.