A Little About Me

Writing for years before my big break, I told myself that with each story, poem, or maxim I weave, I become a new person, and my writings are ever more refined. Though there were many failures, one has to steel themselves for many more and eventually come to realize that every failure sweetens the eventual fruit of success. More importantly, it's a long game of patience. Growing up, I never had a hint of who I would become, and perhaps that was for the better. I needed to shed my naïveté before I could pursue something that, while not looked down upon, is certainly viewed as something unstable and less valuable. And while my younger self was most concerned with chasing money and a comfortable life, my older self realizes there are much more valuable things to be found, case and point, the arts that give us humanity and enable passion.

After a very long time, I've finally become a writer, and not merely one who happens to write. But no story is ever finished, just abandoned. Or, like Derrida's Time Before the First, the story begins much before it is actually written. In this case, this little about me really takes shape in the years following the end of my formal education. An end I sought to cut early, as I realized much more can be learned with a tad bit of eagerness and an iron will. I had only my family, friends, and a couple shelves of books. Where this path will lead, I'm unsure, but I'm still willing to tread it. A wise man once said that it takes courage to walk blindly down an unknown road. I say, nay, that life demands it.