#amwriting

I actually am writing; yes readers I have managed to conquer the borders of procrastination equipped with the tools to write and have permeated the wall surrounding me with the nib of a pen. It feels so... unexplainable. Not something I won't be able to put on to paper, but a feeling I'll try to replicate in my writing. Flushing out everything that is building up like awkward tetris blocks is one of the most satisfying feelings (also was that a weird simile or a good one, I honestly don't know). Writing isn't a game and if it were, it'd be to just do it. When your tools become dusty, your losing, but when your typing away at times of the day when people aren't catching commuter trains or even thought about sipping their morning coffee... That is a sensation I will never get tired of.

Even now on my post-caffeine high, watching the world bloom outside my living room window. I don't know if any of you have ever watched the sun rise and if you haven't, its something you need to experience at least once in your life. I've watched it numerous times, due to problems sleeping or because I've been pulling an all nighter and each time it fills me with energy. It feels rejuvenating to just bask in the world waking up and as I plug myself into Morning Mood by Grieg that feeling swells between the oboe and the flute and the strings and it is just so inexhaustible. I can play it each time I witness the sunrise and still know that each one is different; incredible.

So for the moment I've been working on three stories; my fairytale The Bloody Syrup which is a tribute to Angela Carter and a rewriting of The Little Mermaid by Hans Christian Anderson, The Seventh Veil which is my dissertation piece and novel idea & finally The Enigma which is my dystopian environment piece. I've realised how in the past I used to try and spend individual time writing one piece at a time and never multiple pieces but I guess I've evolved. Its difficult not to adapt when the situation changes; I'm a second year student with piles of work to be finished and I can't always work the way I wanted to.

But then it makes me think: "This time, next year... I'll have written my ECP. I'll have applied for PGCE courses. I'll have a month and a half left of my tenancy before I pack up to go."

When I was 17, I was told I would (and I quote) "never be able to make it into a University that asked for higher then CCC or CCD". I achieved grades well above what was expected, I became extroverted and I decided that I wanted to become a writer. I just think its so strange that I managed to get here and when I'm feeling low and shit, I try to remind myself of my career advisor smelling of alcohol, telling me I wasn't good enough. And now I'm here.

And now I'm writing three stories simultaneously, watching them hatch into the world.