I am so pissed off with myself. I was recently asked, how long I have been writing, and my first response, was 14 years (I have been writing since I was 10 years old). But, I forgot about the 4 years I took off, to try and become a serious person (what a bust).
I should never have stopped. In fact I sort of didn't. I didn't write down any artistic ideas, but I wrote down how I felt and the kinds of emotions I was feeling at the time. No, I guess that doesn't count.
During college, I also got rid of everything I ever wrote. Poetry, short stories and lyrics. I threw them away as I sign of me, becoming mature. I can kick myself for that stupid move! I guess there's no point living in regret. All I can do now, is start over.
I just hope that one day when I am a famous writer (wink, wink) that some of that old work won't turn up and people will try and make money off them. By saying ''Hey, this is Murees, Dupé's work. You can buy it from us for $...'' I like dreaming. It keeps me smiling.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
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