I want to write.
I sincerely want to create stories, but its by far the hardest thing I have encountered in my literary exploits.
I’ve always wondered why, and today- while reading a piece of poetry one of my friends had written, I understood.
My work is ambiguous. It fails to provide the clinical, factual details that are instrumental for a story.
I loathe writing about what I visualise, I’d much rather interpret it.
But my readers can’t exactly read my mind, so I am left with a bunch of ambiguous texts with no context.
Which brings me back to the start.
I seriously need to consider other career options.