I’m free to write what I want.

I envy those who seem to live in a never-ending state of inspiration. Those who allow themselves to spend time on foolish creative endeavors without feeling guilty for not doing practical or rational things. Those who do not let their artistry become suppressed by what they ought to be doing. Those who are free to produce art without worrying about how it will be perceived, without wasting time erasing, without checking the thesaurus every other word. Without being too careful. Those who can hide away in themselves far from skepticism and fear and critics until something lovely is produced. Those who consider the end result (or the lesson they learn along the way) worth the cost. Those who don’t think too much, but just DO.

I trick myself into thinking that I am saving time by avoiding impractical things when in reality I am wasting just as much time wishing for what could be. And if I were to be wasting time for anything I’d rather it be for CREATING not wishing.

If I lived away from the world and had no one to answer to I would spend my time learning, making mistakes and eventually creating beautiful things. And most importantly, being me. 100% percent.

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