The keys stare with desire. They wish to be pressed. Vying for the attention of my finger tips. Loosing all self control I cave in. Oh the dramatization!
Growing up I guess I never really knew what to be or how to feel. When it came to school I had all the tools to succeed and still let it just grace my fingers. In 8th grade during my English class we were learning about the Holocaust through novels. My teacher walked in and began her lessons plan asking everyone to answer as honestly as they could to the following questions. She began to ask who had brown eyes and general questions and those that said yes were asked to stand in the opposite side of the room. It came down to me and my hazel eyes wanting to be left knowing that I wished to survive the activity. She began to whittle the group of six down by asking who was a good writer. In years passed, I recall scoring advanced in standardized testing and writing pages on pages with no end because it was truly enjoyable-yet when asked I kept my hand down.
I simply became a product of my own creation. I began to loose my creativity by simply putting it on a shelf. No longer. I am uncapping that hazy glass, mason jar with this blog.
I can do most anything and those I cant I simply haven't tried yet.
"So it goes" ~Kurt Vonnegut
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