Beautiful Agony

When I was a kid I use to dream of becoming an author. Of making stories that could transport people out of the monotony of their day to day lives. I wanted to create something that would help someone not feel so alone, just as my favorite books did for me. Yet, as I got older I realized how utterly average I am. How I am totally and completely unimaginative. It was a hard pill to swallow at first. In my soul I want to be a free flowing, creative, artistic person. Someone who follows their dreams and believes in themselves. But I am pragmatic, “a realist”, a person who never tries to reach for the starts because it’s just not practical. I am not a risk taker, thrill seeker, or grand adventurer. I am just a girl who forgot how to dream.