I think that people change daily. Every day is the opportunity to take in something new, to learn from someone and to open yourself up to something that could change your opinion on life, love friendship or yourself.

Look back to when you were in high school, are you the same person? No, you're not. You learned new things and as you venture out on your own and take in new experiences you learn about yourself.

When someone says they are who they are, people don't change, i think that's unrealistic and unfair. People have habits, people are taught things and they learn things and habits can be broken if you don't like them. You can change if you want it bad enough and if you're not happy with yourself then it should be your right to become a person that you like and are happy with without people telling you that it's not possible to change.

Not everyone has the will to but everyone should be given the opportunity to.

While writing most people want a well lit space and all that but my ideal work environment for writing would be a closet or something turned into a reading type of room, book shelves and the whole inside like a bed. no windows, just privacy and quiet and darkness.

I like the isolation where there's no one to distract me

I don't want to worry about time.

I don't want the sun glaring on my screen.

I don't want distractions.

There would be a light, books all around me and it would be a place that feels safe and private.

Music would sound great in the quiet space and i would be quite happy.

1. WRITERS BLOCK!

2. Hateful People

3. Anxiety & Doubt

4. Editing

5. Do i want this to happen now... or later?

6. Killing a character off.

7. Sticking with any kind of plan.

8. This is going to be a short story! Never happens

9. Fear of judgement

10. Over analyzing if your books is going where you want it to go or if you should change pretty much everything about it, or a part, of this character, should they say it that way? All that fun stuff.

I'm adding this, after posting, because i feel it applies to this whole thing.

11. Forgetting something important you wanted to put in your book.

I was now at his mother’s front door getting ready to eat there for thanksgiving. Julian and Kylie had gotten to me but it was Caleb doing the devils bidding that got me to go. He begging me to go with him, that he didn’t want to be so alone and if I was there he would be more comfortable.

He didn’t know them either and he needed me there with him, how the hell can you say no to that added with Kylie begging and Julian pouting that I didn’t want to meet his family.

They fucking sucked.

I had put on a nice dress and Julian opened the door, I could smell the food and hear what I’m guessing was his mother in the kitchen.

“Hey mom, we’re here.” I went to back up and he gripped my hand and pulled me against his sided, wrapping his insanely large arm around my much smaller waist, it was pretty much the same thing as cementing and super gluing me to his side.

I groaned and looked at him panicked and the asshole laughed.

Because writing is the best form of therapy, you can say what you really feel and express what you can't find any other way too.

It's not like we didn't see it coming.

We all knew what was going to happen.

Cardiac failure.

Age.

Illness.

It's not like you didn't live a full life.

You got to experience to much.

Children

Grandchildren

Marriage

Love

Friendship.

It's not like you didn't accept it, embrace it.

You believed in heaven and welcomed it.

God.

Religious.

You were ready.

But even knowing these things it really doesn't make it hurt any less that you're gone, a bright light has gone dark on earth.

Even though i knew it was coming i wish i could have got to say goodbye, to have got to feel one last hug, to tell you i loved you one more time.

I thought so highly of you, i respected your character, i loved your heart, i appreciated your understanding.

I just wish i got to tell you this one more time so i'll write what i couldn't, not for anyone but just so that maybe i can find some sense in what's happened, though i know i won't be able to for a long time.

You'll always be Gramie, i'll remember the last day i spent with you fondly. How i surprised you for lunch and we ate an Italian sandwich, how i walked with you back to your room and spent a couple hours there just with you, you always made the bad things disappear when i was there with you.

I'll remember the summer parties and laughing at the music from one of them, the car show and the look of joy you got when you saw your grandsons or daughter.

I hope you're at peace and i love you.