My heart’s broken after every piece of criticism.
I go write about it.
My feelings are hurt every time, I find out a particular thought I had, isn’t unique or original.
So I don’t write.
I stop wanting things when I find out, other people want them too.
So I look for something else to want.
The word unique is the last word I would want to be used to describe me.
This leads to a bunch of other insecurities. I just want to be normal.
I hate writing; right now I’m writing about who I know, but once I’m done I have no idea if this is, who I know.
Come back a few months and I see this post. I’ll convince myself it’s good when I know it could be much better.
Who likes a writer? When all they do is complain and criticize themselves and the world.
I like a writer because as long as you can put thoughts on a screen or paper or anywhere else you can call yourself a writer.
And us writers have to stick together.