There are people in life we can all appreciate, just by taking the time to study them. Sometimes, a little side effect from what I like to call the Enemy puts thoughts in a person's head. I now see that a very good writer's enemy is the passion from people he or she relates too. It's a shame that everyone can't read carefully your writing and have to think off tangent with anxieties. Isn't that how literary critcism began? In a moment where I stand, I just need to be unafraid of standing up to do what's right. It's to be freely just myself and continue to be myself.
Discouragement is also a writer's secondary enemy. Life may be flowing where the writer has to make ends meet to pay off his shabby studio. It could be tossing around a nickel or dime with different or succulent leisures. A lot of these things are not very hard to relate to. The definition of boundaries is very tough on me right now. What am I allowed to do or not? I'm not such the sensitive creature anymore, after having come to terms with my own privacy. The Lord designs everyone to be different. How can a writer consider himself normal, if he sees connections with a person that others can't feel?
