Hello greater powers out there.
I would like to take my time today to thank you for making me a writer.
I know you made me into many things, I also sometimes feel, whenever I do find the time to sit down and explore my noggin and personality that as a person, I encompass a rather large spectrum of emotional and mental traits. That’s just fancy talk for ‘I’m a complicated person’. The euphemism for that though is ‘I’m a balanced person’.
Ahem, but that’s me straying as usual.
I’d to thank you (guys) for making me a writer because being a writer has made me capable of feeling so much. Everything from the purest, most innocent and righteous of emotions of a saint to the dark, deplorable, twisted darkness of a psychopath.
It’s allowed me the safety net of words and imagined worlds, to explore the extent of the human condition. It’s also afforded me to the incredible ability to sympathize with others, a trait that my more self-centred default persona sometimes forgets to do. (Pulling my head out of my ass is usually an afterthought for me, I’d admit ungracefully.)
I may not be the best writer out there, but I’m still grateful for this gift.
Being a writer is an incredible thing.