So I got off Skype with one of my dearest friends, Abby, when she told me that she missed my stories that I wrote in high school. She told me that I was an amazing writer. Ok, so skepticism settled in, trying to believe what she was saying was true. I mean, she was the one that I would allow reading my stories. Exposed is what I felt however, that was when i was 15. I’m 23 now. Some things have to change. After seeing her and having the support, along with some of my other friends, I’m gaining strength to write more stories and indulge in the very thing that gave me joy since I was a kid. The art of words. The realm of imagination.
The following post is an idea that popped in my head, while trying to fall asleep; with sleep being no avail.
Peace and Love