Jordan, Immortal

It’s 5:38pm the day before this assignment is due and I am still second-guessing myself. Still trying to do something different, something out of the box, something unexpected, and something that will undoubtedly go against what I’m naturally good at. I’m a writer, but I abuse it. I pick it up. I put it down. I take it for granted. From crap poetry in the first grade to the blogs that I maintain now, I never really considered it a strength, rather something I just did. I could never keep up with a journal, no matter how hard I tried. But when I got upset, when I got happy, when I got emotional, I wrote. Wildly and rapidly until all my thoughts became words. Things that people could read and understand and relate to. Things that now had meaning. Things that I could act upon or sit on my ass on. Until this class, I never realized the power my words held or the fact that it was always with me. Never stopped to think why I owned a billion and one journals or constantly made new blogs every other month. Writing was always just...there. But now it’s here, and here to stay. Here and now acknowledged as a relevant part of my life, as a major solace in my life, as an immortal interpretation of my life.