I never thought of myself as an artist. In fact if I could pick somebody in my family who was the least artistic I would come second only to my brothers failed rapping career (Let it go Ed). However lately I’ve felt as if my written word play could be categorized as artistic. I wish I could transcribe all the qwerky thoughts that pop into my head randomly. “The wetness from his kiss left a sticky sweet syrup of a quiver on my lips” That line makes me smile 🙂 If I could sit around all day writing or rewriting to add sense’s to stories or kick to lines, I’d be in heaven. Just right now I’m suppose to be writing a biology paper on bacteria, but I don’t wanna write about bacteria. I wanna write about kisses hahaha. Later I might wanna write about swimming or dreaming. I never know I just write. I have so many things I want to say, so many conundrums that fill my head. I’m guessing this is what it feels like to know what it is you want to do with your life. The doubt eats’ at me though. What if it’s not as good as you think, what if they don’t get it. What if it’s too simple….. well I don’t want it to be so deep it’s confusing either hahaha. I have 2 weeks left in this class then I’m dedicating my summer to writing. I honestly have nothing else to do.