Maybe One Day I'll Heave A Sigh Of Relief And Realize I Was Not Crazy After All For Choosing Me And My

“Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.”

— Sylvia Plath

Full offense but your writing style is for you and nobody else. Use the words you want to use; play with language, experiment, use said, use adverbs, use “unrealistic” writing patterns, slap words you don’t even know are words on the page. Language is a sandbox and you, as the author, are at liberty to shape it however you wish. Build castles. Build a hovel. Build a mountain on a mountain or make a tiny cottage on a hill. Whatever it is you want to do. Write.

The hardest part about moving on is realizing that you didn't mean as much to someone as they meant to you.

I don't have the mental space or energy for writing, but the ideas are percolating and one day they will bubble over and spill out on the paper and then you'll all see!!

“Not everyone is healthy enough to have a front row seat in our lives. There are some people in your life that need to be loved from a distance.”

— Unknown

I want to write. I have ideas. I open document. I type four of the worst sentences ever created in the english language. I daydream the rest of the scene. I close document.