Hello.

I’m sorry I have not been posting anything. I just got hit by a wall of school and uninspired. I start to write, and then I stop and delete, and it’s very frustrating. I wish I was better at this, but the only way is to just write, but I haven’t had the time either.

I’m going to try a new…motivation to write this semester. Hopefully it will get me something. If anyone has any ideas comment below. Anything will be greatly appreciated and taken into consideration.

Hopefully something soon. Maybe tonight.

Yep.

Happy Valentine’s Day to my wonderful followers. I appreciate all of you who read and enjoy my little drabbles of stories and continue to read even though they are terrible! :3

Today is my attempt at a cute romantic story that I’m thinking up on the spot in my school commons. 

~

“What are we doing for Valentine’s Day this year?”

This question came by as a surprise.  Not because I wasn’t planning to do anything, or had forgotten about it, but that my boyfriend was asking. Weren’t boyfriends suppose to forget or wait till the last minute? He took my hand and interlaced his fingers with mine in a cute, sorta kiddish way.

The gesture made me smile, “I wasn’t planning anything special.” I finally replied.

Suddenly he dropped my hand and smiled, “good, cause Valentine’s Day is totally a waste.” He said and walked off in large strides.

My jaw dropped as I jogged to catch up with him. “What a kid,” I laughed, “wait for me! I just said nothing special!”

~

Argh! why is this so lame?!  oh well. I want everyone to know. Enjoy your Valentine’s Day. You don’t have to be adorable like my roommate who last night made heart shaped jello and a tin cookies, but you also don’t have to be like my friend who dressed in all black today in protest. Just have fun and enjoy the day. Love the people you love, and appreciate what you have with them. Don’t make up excuses to hate a day just because your single. Remember you’re not alone today. 

 

No reply came to my question. All I could hear from him was his staggered breath over the pay phone I was calling from. We both stayed silent for a few more seconds before I scoffed.

“Okay, I get it Aaron.” I shifted the phone to my left and irritatedly ran my right hand through my hair,  “Have a nice life.” I hung up the phone abruptly slamming it down on the receiver as angry tears streamed down my cheeks. Who knew getting cheated on hurt so much. I’ve never been so sad and angry in my life. And I was actually more angry with myself more than anything.

Angry that I dated a guy who would cheat.

Angry that I should have noticed.

Angry that I still love him.

I laughed though the tears shaking my head as I walked calmly away from the public phone.

and this is where I went to the restroom and forgot EVERYTHING else I wanted to write. Fun.

It’s happening again.

Every time I see someone I know writing, becoming a better writer..being awesome, I get jealous. I get angry with myself, and then I feel ashamed. The only reason why I’m not a better writer is because I don’t write. I’ve been writing more about myself, than about all these characters I have in  head.

I suck.

It’s how I feel right now.

I need to write, and by write I mean write stories, I want to be that person that publishes a book in their 20s. Actually I wanted to be that person to publish a decent book at 19 and get on a bestseller list. THATS what I wanted.

Now I’m almost 20, and that dream isn’t coming true. I need to work harder…I need to be more inspired..I need to write.

I’m going to figure out the “Summer Wars” story, and I’m going to think of two others.

I’m motivated guys…LETS DO THIS!

I’m not sure if I should write this story in third person, or first person for this story I’m writing. I’m starting to lean more towards first. Here’s a little bit of what I’m thinking about for first person with the main character Francine “Frankie” Parker. She’s 17 and has been harden by a life of learning to survive on her own with her neighbor and best friend Hazel Young, who is 15. 

I hated waiting in one place for long periods of time. Hazel and I have been camping out in the old  Dollar General for over a week now, and I could tell she was starting to get attached. For the moment it was a hideout for kids like us, a place that was safe from the adults who took away so much from our world.
I sat at a distance from the rest of the kids watching after Hazel before getting up feeling restless. 

aaannd…I lost whatever I was thinking about.

I’m so bad when it comes to actually writing a story.

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