MAK...unpeeled

Growing up, I always said I was going to be a writer. English and Creative Writing were always my favorite subjects in school, of which I excelled in. I kept journals, would write letters, sketch up outlines for my book ideas, create poetry and lyrics. I had so much passion, so much emotion, so much feeling, and had a knack for putting it on paper. Somewhere along the line, however, that all drifted away. That part of me died, and I have no idea how, when, or why. Life happened...and you'd think it would continue the inspiration in my heart, but instead it just distracted me until I forgot all about what I was working towards.

I am now about to turn 30, and it's finally starting to bother me.....that I don't have something that I'm "passionate" about anymore. Sure, I'm married to my best friend and we have a wonderful life, but I don't have a hobby, a talent, "that special something" that is all my own. Watching my husband chase his dreams, and being completely supportive of his attempts, makes me yearn for my own adventures.

No more excuses. I'm going back to my roots. Dig up some of my old works, and put them out there. Take some courses, and just write. And we'll see where it takes me.

These writings that I'll post first were written many years ago, when I was much younger. Like most during their angst-ridden ages, I had many experiences with under-age drinking, eating disorders, loneliness, anger, infatuation, betrayal, suicide, and "sextention." These first writings posted explore these topics above.