Today, I'm a writer...
I woke up this morning and decided I would write. Not just at home in my journal or in letters to loved ones, but out loud in the wide open. For years I've been waiting for the right moment to begin, or the right opportunity to inspire me and send me whirling into a writing frenzy. I don't feel like I am in a frenzy, so to speak. However, the whirling may be an accurate assessment. But what can it hurt to start imperfectly? What can it harm to try, and maybe struggle a bit? Surely I've struggled in worse ways before. So, why not write? I hope to bring joy to others; maybe make some laugh a bit, cry a bit, and deeply ponder about things that matter much and little.
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