4:30 am inspiration
I cannot believe I am up this early. Thirst took me over, and while I laid in bed debating if I should get up, I tossed around ideas about my writing. Since I was a little girl, I had an imagination that would create fantastic worlds I wished I lived in: I was adorned by friends, personified a strong independent spirit, embodied an importance in my community to be rivaled, and of course, all the boys were enamored with me. The ideas worked into chapter books I wrote in between talking instead of paying attention in Mr. Pecuch's 5th grade class. The plot was weak and circular, describing this perfect life I desperately wanted, illustrated with hideous pictures on lined paper. Boy, did I think I was the coolest. Fast forward 19 years and I am in the same romantically delusional world I created at 11. Writing fascinates me, and I dream of becoming a writer. Unfortunately, reaching this goal, one must remove head from clouds and write. Well, I wasn't rehired at the urban