Life is not easy. Living is one the hardest things to do. It is a choice made each and every single day. A conscious decision to go on. I want this to be a place where I can tell my truths. All the ugly aspects of it. The struggles and the triumphs. My truth is I am struggling to write. To dedicate myself to my goal of being a published author. It seems like I am fighting myself. Fighting against what is set for me and what I want to become, especially now that I am an "adult." I'm trying not to be a disappointment to those around me but I feel like it is inevitable. Life is never what you want it to be, even when it seems that way. I am struggling but I am still fighting. Trying to find a balance where I don't disappoint myself as well. I pick up stream and I lose it. I pick up a pen and nothing but a thin line of abstract sorrow comes from it. Life is inhaling, holding that one precious breath while visualizing shelter from the storm. I hope this can become my shelter.
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