When I was a kid,
I wanted to be a writer when I grew up.
That was my dream for myself.
But I always thought I needed to have written books,
Or gone to college to get a degree.
I thought I need to be officially ordained as a writer by some magical force,
In order to truly be one.
Sure, I write for my blog on a weekly basis,
For all to see.
But what people don't usually see,
Is that I also write poetry, prose, and other strange little pieces on a daily basis.
Inspired by my personal life experiences,
These live stored away in files on my computer.
I write like a mad woman.
The muse claims me daily,
And causes my fingers to fly as I spill my heart out onto the blank page.
I share these pieces publicly sometimes,
But one day they'll turn into books.
I’m choosing right here,
And right now —
I’m a self-proclaimed writer.
I write in my own very special,
Eclectic sort of way.
I don’t follow rules,
I do writing my own way,
And it moves me.
So, if that makes me a writer,
I guess that means I’m actually living my dream right now.