I’ve been back and forth with what I should do with my writing. Part of me feels that it will never go anywhere. Another part of me feels embarrassed about naming it as a talent as well as an aspiration for a “job”. And another part of me sees the potential in it, if only minor. And yet another part of me feels like that I’m not good enough, despite what I’ve been told. All of my negative thoughts and fears gets me stuck to the point I can’t write. I suppose I just don’t have the confidence in myself to write what’s in me. I can’t crank anything out unless I’m forced to. I haven’t written creatively in years and I’ve made myself okay with that. I’ve told myself that it’s alright to not write, that it may not be something I should do. But when I actually sit and think about it, when I think about the end of my life, will I die being okay with not writing? With not trying to get published?
No. No, I wouldn’t. In fact, I’m more scared of dying without writing about all the ideas in my head than the fear of me writing and failing. I’d rather share, try and fail than die without writing, without trying. Who knows? I could be the next Anne Rice or just have a small cult following of fans. I won’t know unless I try right?