  Where are the words when you need them the most? You know the ones. The ones that seem to abandon you when you feel that they and they alone are but the last defense against the onslaught of the world gone wild. Wickedly bent on destroying your sanity. Your life as it were. Then, you wake up and realize life wasn't just a dream ... it was a dream where you allowed yourself to live it to its fullest potential. Fellow bloggers have written me more than once and/or commented in the past about what am I doing to fulfill my dream(s).
What am I doing to be content and happy with the dream that I have perched inside a patch of thorns that is: to write. For years now I've came up with well over a hundred and one different excuses not to write (and a few good ones I might add). I would refuse to make time. I would refuse to believe that I could orchestrate a simple legible sentence that would be so meaningful that it might actually send me into writer's shock. Yes, there is something really called: writer's shock. (And I'm sure somewhere out there is a treatment) Of course, when I would have time to write, I would instead spend it reading what others had to say.
In doing so, I found that many times over I could write just as good as what had been written by another. I began to second guess myself even further. I found new excuses not to write. And new ways to squander the time that I could have been using to write. Go figure. With changes about to overtake my life once more, I guess that I need to make time to write.
To take into consideration the concept of writing a good story and make the most of it while my life writes its own story. A story that I know will one day make sense to a lot of people out there and to the rest? Well, who knows what goes through their minds. For me, at this point in the game, I have little to lose except of course, patience. 
