[Based off my dream of writing]

try.

fail.

try.

fail.

there’s no way i can achieve the glory of finishing a rough draft of a novel.

how can a homo-sapien be asked to write a grand total of 50,000 words?

and yet, so many have done it before me,

so now i feel alone in this suffering.

two people so far have told me i have the potential for writing a full-blown book,

but it is truly true?

i feel like i can only try to encourage others to write their own stories

by providing them with encouraging tools,

unique prompts fished out just for them,

gratefulness overflowing.

what about that story about the badass teenager thief?

gotten rid of. didn’t seem interesting.

what about that story about the girl who could talk to stars?

abandoned. couldn’t narrow down the plot enough.

what about that story about the circus dude and his adopted daughter that was an orphan?

again, didn’t have a clear enough plot.

what about that story about the girl who didn’t know her own gender and the abandoned woman and apparently they were both lovers before the abandoned woman left to that strange planet and there was a villain vampire that was too tired of drinking blood and in the end just found pleasure in killing since that was all she was taught to do as a child?

wait, actually… that might work out? i will have to rewrite most of it, which is annoying, but uh, thanks me, for looking at my own story ideas!!