My dream.

What was your dream?

My career choice form flip-flopped through 3 years of elementary school, but from then on “A Writer” always made it on there.. Until this past year.

When did writing become so painful? I needed, wanted a break, but yet I wrote staggeringly throughout a year with no real desire to do so.

I used to plop down and spool out countless stories from my head, movies flashing faster onto paper than my impatience could keep up with. That’s why movies couldn’t compete, reading was always so much more exhilarating. You chose the pace, the cast, the crescendo and the diminuendo.

Reading someone else’s story was always amazing too. You felt a connection, even though the images that raced through your mind was probably not the same the author visualized. It was a mighty collaboration, a co-directed imagery, a shared sense of empathy for the characters.

Well, I guess it’s not too late, the year’s not over yet. Even with all the things that I’ve done in my short life, the achievements and bitter losses, I can still honestly say, this year, my dream is still to be “A Writer.”

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