Apart from having a part time job at a near-by supermarket, I also attended creative writing courses. While I knew that it was close to impossible to earn a decent amount of money by writing, it was just what I wanted to do. After doing what I did not enjoy for the most part of the life I have lived up till now, I decided to try doing what I love. Something I enjoy.

Despite a lot of people being against it, I did not shake. I stood with my words and head held high.
My wishes became my goal. I started dreaming and I was not going to be stopped from trying to fulfill these dreams

I will fall down 100 times and get up 101 before I even start thinking about letting go of those dreams I have started fighting for.
I may lose a battle or many of them, but I will win the war.
Or die trying.

As long as I can remember, I have been walking around with a pen and a notebook, writing down mental pictures I had seen or had been inspired to imagine.

Those were just small in-between moments from my work-filled life, though. The rest of the time I was working.
What working meant for me – doing what I don’t like, which was basically all I did do. I never enjoyed school, studying, not even the literature lessons which I should have because of my passion for writing. It didn’t feel right for me to analyze other people’s writing. Almost like criticizing their emotions and thoughtful opinions.
Also, what I did not understand was how the teacher could know what the writer had meant with what he wrote. (I don’t think they could have met and talked about it.) And when we had to say what we thought about a poem or story or anything, or what they made us think of, I did not understand how we could think wrong. It’s our thoughts after all, there is no right or wrong.

Not in my world.


My grades were decent, some would say – good. But it was not because of me, it were my parents. They supported me, they encouraged me to do my best. And I tried, for them. It was against my liking, but I really did try for them.

It may have been wrong.
In the end, they did not support me when I wanted to do something for myself.

They did not try for me.