My Confession

I have a lot to say right now. But, before I say anything, I need to say one important thing first. The reason I write on this blog is not because I want to entertain, impress or in any way appeal to anyone. As I have mentioned many times before, it actually makes me quite uncomfortable when people read my blog because, me being an introvert, I don't like talking about these kinds of things with people. 
No, the reason I write on this blog is for myself...mostly. I have so much of my writing locked up inside my head and inside my notebooks, and though sometimes some of it does make it out somehow, this blog is primarily here because sometimes it's nice to be heard. It's just easier to talk to my screen than to most people... 

Anyway, having said that, I am writing here today because I have a decision to make. I'm pretty sure I already know what conclusion I will come to, cause hey, I've known myself all my life, I know there's only one option for me. But I'm still a little scared. I still have second thoughts. I still have a little doubt. I need to talk myself into this for a little while first.

Now that I've danced around the issue for long enough, I will finally get to my point.

I like to tell stories. 
In fact, all I've ever wanted is to tell stories. 
And, believe me, I cannot stress enough how ridiculous confessing that makes me feel! What kind of eighteen year old is stuck in such a childish dream! I laugh at myself sometimes!

But then there are those moments when I give in to the doubt. There are those moments when I start to think "realistically," and honestly, I hate those moments. In those moments I don't feel like myself. In those moments, I feel lost. I feel purposeless. I really really hate those moments. 
But, as much as those moments scare me, there's one thing that scares me more, and that's living in that reality. 
I'm a dreamer. I admit it. I have my head in the clouds. Who cares!

I confess that this idea is insane! I know I'm out of my mind! Who can make a living off of telling stories, right?! 
But I don't care! I don't care if I struggle all my life to no avail! At least I'll have my purpose. Cause the world can take my money and my confidence. It can take my health, my home and all I care for. But the world can never take away my purpose.

I confess that when I went off to University, I hesitated. I remember for weeks in advance there was this little nagging worry in my head that wondered if the reality of University would beat this dream out of me. Sure, it's easier to dream when I'm sitting in my bedroom in the house I've lived in for most of my life. I'm comfortable there! It's easy to dream from the sidelines! But to act, now that's another thing entirely. To act takes courage, and dedication and a whole lot of faith. Oh, so much faith.

Now I'm here, miles away from my comfort zone, and you know what, I'm not scared anymore. Not of this. This doesn't scare me anymore. What scares me is not even trying. What scares me is not fighting hard enough.
When I think about quitting, when I consider even for a moment turning to a more particle lifestyle, I feel dead inside. I feel my heart sink and, honestly, I feel like it robs me of my soul. 

I have to do this. There is no other way. I don't want to waste my life. I don't want to die in regret. Not doing this is the only thing that could ever scare me. 

And now here I am once again. Making the same decision I've made time and time again. 

I want to tell stories. 

I will tell stories.

How crazy does that make me? 

 Photo Credit goes to Heinrich Nikel Photography.

Send Me a Storm

This is probably the last thing I should be doing right now, yet, somehow, it needs to be the first. Updating my blog is at the bottom of the to do list, yet here I am. Writing.
This post currently has no title because I don't know what this is about yet, but I'm sure to find out shortly.
Some of you probably don't know this, but I'm in University now. I have my text books sitting next to me, on the desk in my dorm room. My roommate is currently out, and I am alone. And, aside from the ridiculously loud air-conditioning, all is still.

Today was a very busy and a very hot day. I hate hot days. They make me lazy and, quite frankly, they exhaust me. 
I miss the rain. Oh how I miss the rain. I miss dancing in the storm. Somehow admits the turmoil of thunder and rain your soul is just set free. All your worries wash away, and you are just a tiny drop in the eye of the storm. It's the most powerful form of therapy I know. To me there is nothing like a thunder storm to remind me who is really in control.
I think what I'm trying to say is. I feel like I'm losing control, and that scares me. I think, admits the homework and the stress of getting settled into this new stage of my life, I think I have forgotten why I'm here. I have forgotten who sent me and I have lost sight of what I came here to so eagerly pursue. 
So, I am here now, putting off my reading and the two papers I'm supposed to be writing, to remind myself. 
I am here because... well because this is all I want to do. They is all I can do! There is no other way to say it! No other way to do it! I am here because I have this nagging urge in my heart that won't be still. It is the storm inside my soul. I find peace in the storm, and I guess this is my storm. This rage, this passion, this hurricane. This brings me to life. Without it I am dead. Without it I am just a hot sunny day, and I hate hot sunny days. 
And now, I have come up with a title for this nameless post. As you can see I've called it, Send Me a Storm. Or, more precisely, Send Me THE Storm.

I didn't have a picture for this post, so I thought I'd share one of my favorite landscape pictures taken by none other than my Dad. 

Just looking at it makes me feel calm in the most tremendous way.

Check out more breathtaking landscapes of his here.

A Milestone

 "If a story is in you, it has to come out."

~William Faulkner 

  I started this blog as a way to document my ups and downs as an aspiring novelist, and, as I recently hit a milestone in my journey as a writer, I thought it was only appropriate to document it here.

This last week (though by now many weeks ago) I finished writing the first part of my book. 

Now this really isn't a big deal, because the book isn't long finished, and for all I know it could still be a while before that actually happens seeing as I'm heading off to college in a few short weeks. (At this time only a few days...)

But holy crap! I'm finally getting somewhere! The pages are finally coming into their order! The story is officially on its way!

This journey that I embarked on in my grade seven English class is finally taking me somewhere. And this, this wonderful sensation, has me writing more ferociously than ever before. 

 I just can't waste any more time procrastinating. I have to know where this is taking me! I have to keep writing. I can't stand still anymore! This is my life. This is my journey. My odyssey.

Through all the frustrations, all the times that life gets in the way, I will never cease to find my way back to these pages. These pages are my story. The ink is in my fingers. These words are the life inside my soul. 

Nothing can take them from me.