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The Write Move

My relationship with women & writing is exactly the same.

I know what I’m going to say & how I’m going to say it until the moment comes.

Then, Nothing.

I freeze. I can’t seem to shake this idea that I’m not good enough. Worthy, like I don’t deserve to chase my dreams with an Usian Bolt like approach.

As if I can’t have success & happiness in a challenging career field.

I truly feel like with a pen in my hand I’m a bad man.

A stroke of genius if you will.

But I can’t get the genius to put words to the page.

My mind is blocked with nonsense. Random things I allow myself to get distracted by every day.

You know. Snap, bleacher report, Instagram. The usual distractions.

I know what I want from my life. I know what I want my life to look like. I just don’t believe I can make it happen & I couldn’t tell you why.

If I could figure out why I feel that way, I like to think I could end it.

I once told a guy that I wanted to be a writer. He looked at me, took a step back & said you’ll do it kid. I can see it.

I later thought to myself, some random guy who knows nothing about you & has never read writing told you that success was yours & you believed him. But can’t do that for yourself.

It’s time. It’s time I bet on me.

Time to walk in my purpose of being a writer. Time to find my niche.

Time to write my way out of this lackluster life.

It was written for me to write.