If only my words would set me free…

 

 

My legs hurt, my back aches and my head pounds.  My feet hurt, I’m exhausted and I’m incredibly cranky.  What is it that is wrong with me, why do I feel like a train wreck on such an, otherwise, lovely day?

I’m just home from another gruelling day at work.  My job.  My families roof and food provider.  My means to survive.  My lifestyle maintainence.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a great job.  It pays well and its very satisfying.  I am responsible for leading, managing and developing a large team of people.  I’m accountable for ensuring the satisfaction of thousands of customers on a weekly basis.  But, I have to answer to my boss, and his boss and his boss and his boss…

I’m tired and beaten.

I want to write.  I want to create imaginary worlds that people can disappear into.  I want to write insightful, useful articles to help people.  I want my words to be my means of living and surviving.

I AM a writer, but. I want TO BE a writer.

I won’t ever give up.

#livetowritewritetolive