I am told that writing every day will make me better at writing, although to be honest I doubt that.
I am told that talent doesn't exist and that everybody has an equal shot at something as long as they practice. I doubt that also.
I am told that writing is therapeutic, and that it will help to make me a whole and dynamic human. I choose to believe this against my better judgement.

I want to write because I have to believe that I have something worth expressing, though I lack the tools to express it. I have never been musical, I cannot paint or draw,  I do not dance. I am dishonest. Let me be clear I do not mean that I lie, but that I struggle to communicate truth. Truth about the world, about myself, about others. Things that should be told. I have to believe that my truths are true and the only way to know that is to tell them. Or maybe I just want attention.

I will continue to write until I have written down a single sentence that I can be proud of. A sentence that is an achievement, and then I will write some more. Sometimes I will write a lot and sometimes I will write a little; sometimes about cars or swans and sometimes about the piece of cake in a shop window. I don't know what I will say, I only know I have to say it.

Today is Monday the 17th of March, 2014, and I shall write again tomorrow. You have my word.