Writing and Me - An Essay
me empty inside with nothing to say.
I am like the Adélie penguin who wants to present it's potential mate with the perfect
pebble, except I am like that with words. I search far and wide for the perfect words and
eventually end up with nothing. Even now I am struggling with writing, wanting to say so
much but ending up with saying nothing meaningful at all, everything I manage to produce
feels like a cliché, a platitude.
As time passed and the older I got the less passionate I felt about writing. It became
something unpleasant and began to feel forced as it was compulsory at school for students to
write and write and write until they could write no more. And then write some more. Since
then, I would not voluntarily pick up a pen, try to gather my thoughts and put them on paper.
It seemed even more pointless than it had before. I knew I was not good at writing but now I
had confirmation.
annaabi.ee 
