Forever. I will write.

I have written for everyone and yet no one has cared.

I have written for myself and it has been wrong. Chopped up with red pen or rude sneers of criticism. Either way, it appears to me as if my verses just returned from the battlefield.

It seems that it has been forever since my writing came out of that battlefield unscathed.

I will start arming my writing so it and my ambition may survive.

Forever, I will write.

Forever, I will turn up the music and turn down the world so I can write.

I will relish the feeling that comes over me when I pick up my pen. The feeling of placing my fingers on the keys and sending my words to the world.

I will strive to write like Dickens no matter how many negative connotations come along with it.

I will let others have their opinion…and disregard it kindly. I will be thankful of their feedback but not dare take it to heart.

I will get some tougher skin when I listen to them.

I will love others’ writing and I will hate it. I will allow myself to be influenced and also repulsed. Their words will be better than mine but I won’t notice. I won’t know what I’m doing but I’ll pretend that I’m an expert. What comes next? I won’t be sure but I will be enthusiastic.

I will find perfection in imperfection.

I will let my eraser take a break.

Forever, I will lose my train of thought and cry in frustration. I know this is true but that won’t stop me. I will simply write something else, something real.

And sometimes I will be praised for my writing. And sometimes I will know I don’t deserve to be. The ‘A’ will stare up at me and I will know it means nothing. Eventually it will mean nothing all the time, even when I do deserve it.

And I will find a clever adjective to describe the situation. And then I will write about it. Exaggerate. Embelish. Move on.

I will aim for lines drenched in wit and metaphors dripping with appeal. I will pray my paragraphs reek of readability.

Forever, I will write about what I know and what I don’t. I will learn about what I write and write about what I learn.

And it will be too long and too wordy and I will think of a million ways to fix it…but I only will if I deem it vital.

And others will think of a million ways to fix it….but I won’t care if they deem it vital.

Forever, I will write.

Even when I don’t have to. Even when it’s not asked of me. Even when I don’t know where to go with it. Even when I can feel the criticism coming.

Even when I can’t think of a scarier place than that battlefield.

Even then, I will.