..The best gift you can give me is time....

As I scale the walls of my mind, searching for that elusive inspiration I realize how time is so precious. For a writer time plays a key role in everything. Worse off, for an inexperienced writer like me. My words spend days swimming around in my mind, disappearing into short term memory then resurfacing for a debate as to whether I should write or not. And before you know it the time has disappeared.

I woke up today and realized I needed to be a writer yesterday. *SMH* Scrounging for my laptop and retracing the countless serial blogs I created I realiz how I sat on the edge of my dream but dared not to dive. I have countless blogs with one entry and then I disappear into cyberspace. Sometimes I think I am in love with the idea of ‘wanting’ to be a writer and not the reality of it? That question haunts my mind day and night.

I write a piece then I spend a week searching for reassurance from various people around me, is my writing good? They say yes. In the confines of my heart, I dare not dream, dare not try because the fear of failure is too much? That was yesterday.

Today, with the very little time that I have, the minute the words play around my mind I try to capture them. I look for a story in everything I see and I write it down in my journal. When I am at work, I study how my colleagues interact, gathering information for a character I might have in the future.

So, wrapped up in a tiny box, a stop watch that stops time would be my gift. It stops. I write. Forget inspiration and my sitting on the bus stop waiting for it. Now, I consciously train my mind to constantly seek and I have also realized when I am bored, if I sit and just start rambling, my mind is stimulated and then I am in writer’s mode.

I just want to tell the stories in my head, paint a picture for all to see. Time will not stand still, so I just have to run faster…(give up facebook) live in a cave, as long as I have my thoughts, my notepad and my pen. No, I am not a writer.