Wordy

Two words. 
Personal Narrative. 


Bah. 

Wanna know a secret? I actually really love writing. 

Wanna know another secret? Writing terrifies me. 

Make sense? 

Probably not. 

My English teacher joked about how we're going to have book love in that class. We're going to obsess over diction and tone and all that stuff. Well by my reaction to it--you'd think I hate it. False. I really love it. The thing is that I'm terrible at it. I am simply not an amazing writer. I wish I was. I absolutely love words and the way some people can just weave them together into the most beautiful pieces of art. So I sit there in that class and often get terrified in ways I haven't in a long time. I don't feel quite adequate to be there surrounded by so many people that pick up all these little details I never noticed but felt the effect of. 


Our assignment due for next class  period is a personal narrative. We have to communicate messages through it. I...don't know if I can. I have a story. I have a parallel you can draw from it. I don't know how to mesh them into one thing and allow people to draw the parallel purely from diction I use in my story. I love the idea of it. I love reading examples. If only I could do it. 


Secretly...the thought of other people reading my writing terrifies me. It's this sick combination where I really want to share it--but it scares me too much. Maybe it's some fear of having people reject it. I dunno. 


We have to have our narratives peer edited :( Alas. I can do nothing about it. Except...not do the assignment. But, that's a bad plan.

 "And I feel like I'm naked in front of a crowd, 'cause these words are my diary screamin' out loud, and I know that you'll use them however you want to."