You must know by now, the world isn't perfect, I learned this as we all do. I found a way to cope with it, writing. Writing for the pure reason to make a different world and share that world with people. Hopefully, those people's days will get a bit brighter from reading what I wrote. That's all I want to do with my life and my loved ones have told me time and again that it's not enough to survive. Is it selfish of me to still only want to write? I'm not good at much else, I know I've tried. I thought I proved them wrong by getting paid a bit because of this amazing app that gives writers a real chance at sharing their worlds and getting a bit of money as well. I thought wrong because it's still not enough, that really made my self-worth drop like cement in the cold unforgiving sea. 

Despite all this, I will continue to write, to evoke emotions, to give people a break from reality, to give myself a sense of peace. I say this yet writing can be such a fickle thing sometimes, like the times where I get inspiration to write that last minutes or when a story idea floats in my head but refuses to get on paper, or when I get writer's block and I can't write a story I have been working on for months while the aforementioned story idea finally decides it wants to get written properly. Yes, writing can be very fickle and maddening, yet I wouldn't rather do anything else. I will write even if no one believes in me and my loved ones scream to me how 'it's not a real job' and 'how I won't amount to anything'. Or maybe that second one is my own inner voice speaking, which kind of sounds like my mother, which is a sign that I was mentally abused. Please excuse me if I am talking about myself too much and not talking enough about my writing. 

I have been writing for years and I love to look back and see how much my writing has changed. I love how I am slowly trying new things with my writing at well. I love to read the comments that my readers leave so that I can see a fraction of their reaction to my stories. My high school English teacher taught me that the only real difference between us and animals is the fact that we write everything down. I find myself wondering if writing makes such a difference then why does everyone I know treat my career choice like a joke? Is it because I write fantasy and romance? Even though stories like that are the ones that helped so many people around the world. I'm not used to writing about myself, this is the first time I am doing it. I hope you all enjoyed, thank you for your time.  Another story is calling.