I feel like being a writer brings a lot of judgement from people, so I don’t make that obvious. Only a few people I really trust know about it. I haven’t even told my family. Not that I’d think they’d be rude, just that they wouldn’t understand. (cliche but true)
I’ve always been that “perfect middle child” type of kid. My siblings always needed a lot of attention for various reasons, so I thought it best not to ask for attention much. Which led to some obvious problems later on 😅 my parents are also pretty strict, so it makes me feel like writing is doing something wrong? Does that make any sense at all? XD
It’s just that my imagination feels like it’s too big for this world. There’s so many beautiful things to imagine, so many stories to be told that are bottled up inside me. I spend so much time daydreaming and mentally writing. Maybe too much hehe…
In school I’m always doodling or making my notes look nice (with those awesome zebra highlighters if you know what I’m talking about:) Thinking about this, I see how it could look like I’m not paying attention. But it really helps me focus. It keeps me from spacing out, or clicking my pen. It keeps me engaged with the subject.
So yeah, that was random. That seems to be the theme of this story 😂 Also I wrote this at two am, sorry if there’s any spelling errors or stuff.
Thanks for reading!
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