If I take one more step, it'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been.
~Samwise Gamgee, Lord of the Rings
A writer is a person who writes, correct? I don't write very often anymore, so I'm not quite sure if I warrant the title at the moment. I used to write. I used to submit myself to the altar of editors, hoping and praying to have my poetry published. Sometimes, it was published. I felt glorious shining moments upon seeing my words online at various sites and even rarely in print. But more often, I felt worn down. I burned myself out in late high school with a desperate drive to write, not just for writing's sake, but to give myself the high of being published, the high of feeling like an acceptable person propelled up by this outside self esteem boost.
And so I burnt out. I left my high school years and stopped writing. Poetry didn't flow from my fingers, and the words would not touch my mind. Throughout my years in college, I was an editor for the honors program literary magazine at my university, and I took two different creative writing courses. But the ideas still would not fly. And that is why I am here writing at this moment. I wish to reclaim that part of myself that lies weakened. I want to water the creativity that I've let dry up over the course of time. I want to finally stop running from the fact that being a writer seems to unprofitable and impossible and just write. I just want to write and be a writer and enjoy being a writer. Maybe I'd like to attempt publication again one day. But for now, I just want the words to come. I just want this thirst to go away.
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