No one can stop you from telling your story-J.August Richards
This is the post where I talk about writing. This is the post where I talk about fears, dreams and well, choices.
Not all the time, but a lot of time. I build stories in my head, or I experience things, and then I write. It’s a part of me. It’s part of what kept me alive these last seven years. Kid poetry when I was 8, stories at 14, 16, 19, 23. I write to ease the pain. I write some better versions of me. I write people I’d love to meet in my life. I write about loneliness, about regrets. I write about life. I write to be happy.
I have fears, so many fears that hold me back from what I want. So many “what if?”, so many “Do I worth it?”. So many “what are you going to do when things go wrong?” (Answer : Shake the dust and get back on the horse). Some ” You won’t make it”. I don’t want to prove you wrong. I want to prove myself right.
Truth is, writing is the only thing I feel I’m good at.
I moved here for a change of scenery, to put some distance between my fears and I. And while I’m enjoying this Brighton life a lot, I feel like I’m missing the point.
I have so many things to do, to see, to share. So many dreams waiting to come true. I have to hurry if I want to catch them. I don’t want any regrets anymore. I want to try. I want to see the world, I want to share my stories, I want to connect with people. I want as many lives as I can get.
I’m taking a risk. This is my choice. This is how I want it, my life, to be.