Writing is so difficult. So fun, so rewarding, so fulfilling. But so difficult.
The problem is, writing is never done. No matter how many times I reread something I've written, editing, cutting things, adding parts...still, the next time I read it, I think it's awful and find so many ways I could have improved it.
The solution? Never let anyone actually read my writing.
Since I've already broken this rule...sadly...I'll just keep frustrating myself with my mistakes, in the hopes that the more I write the better I'll get.
Though I know I'll never be perfect.
I've written a ton today, in the hopes of providing you lovely readers with some thought-provoking, meaningful words that you will remember forever. Failing miserably. All my starts are unfinished, and I can't get anything to work.
Writing is hard. Why do I love it so much? I'm a glutton for punishment.
Well, here's a pretty picture of the clouds outside my window. Maybe it can be a substitute for my lack of ability.