Some people were born to become writers. I don’t think I am one of those people. I wish I became aware of this sooner. It seems to me now that I was never meant to become a writer, and I’m very angry.
I never enjoyed writing. I always forced the sentences out of me. Imagine pulling out an octopus from your esophagus — that’s me trying to write.
That’s sad and disgusting, yes, but that’s not the real problem. The real problem is that the world will probably be better off if I don’t write at all.
But I’m also very stubborn. I write in spite of.
I don’t have anything to say, but I will go ahead and say something anyway.