



Can words arrange themselves around my life, or do I have to arrange my life around words?
Sometimes I dream that I have a hidden talent waiting to be unleashed. Maybe I am meant to be a journalist in Africa, a screenwriter with a pen behind my ear, a novelist in lonely mountains-the Cliché's always reel me in. People say you can be anything you want, but it that really true? I think people are born writers. They have it in them. From the moment they first hold a pencil it has begun: a future of clean white sheets being smudged with ink. But of course there is always the hope that if you find how to write the right way that future can be yours too, if you really want it.
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