I hate writing.. rather, writing hates me.

I admire my sister so much for her passion for writing. She would compose poems, short stories, essays, you name it.. and do it with such ease. Heck! What am I talking about?! She doesn’t even need ease to write! The thoughts pour out of her like a wrecked fire hydrant!


Then why in the world am I composing this [journal, entry, documentary, essay.. just fill in the blank] right now?


Well I just created a blog, haven’t I? The world is expecting something of substance from this “blogger.” Well then World… come and get some!… Oh noooo, I wasn’t referring to me! You could get nothing of substance here… Just random neurological spasms delivered directly to my fingers, then transmuted onto my keyboard.


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