As an unpublished, 'unprofessional', self-proclaimed writer, I never really know when inspiration will make an appearance or when my brain will give me a fair, decent shot at producing a well written piece. I can conclude that published, professional authors would say the same. That's when notebooks or even the notes section in our iPhones come in handy; maybe even recording a voice memo. But I'd have you know that pouring our minds onto paper isn't the easiest thing most days. Finally, to those who asked - you get a look into this little poetry book I carry around.

I don't recall a specific/monumental moment in my life when I had some sort of realization that writing was my passion; that writing was what I wanted to do. It was a built-in trait I always thought I had, even though I never considered that others didn't share the same interest or even, for lack of sensitive word choice, ability. Up until ninth grade, I was aloof to everyone else's perception of writing and study of literature in English class - I realized majority of the kids hated it. They thought Shakespeare was boring. Poetry was a drag and my teacher cut the unit short (somehow I convinced him to lengthen it for me, and my class hated me for it). But I loved it. I took pride in reading my work in front of the class, even though I'd never admit. I loved all of it. If I could've taken extra English classes, I would've. (Some teachers hindered my interest more than others, not going to list them off or anything..) I even signed up for writing/literature 12 classes even though I was at a younger year. I wanted it all.

  I've always said - I'm not good at expressing what exactly I feel in the most clear manner, and most days, some can't figure it out. (Eh, it will only hurt your head.) My inability to say everything I need to when I have the given time - that's why I write instead. This is how a lot of these pieces came to be.

I'd like to think I pour my heart and soul into each, but you can definitely tell which ones have the most of me. I try to write at least one per day; maybe two or three come out of it. Some of these were written under the moon and stars, some were written in empty parking lots, around a campfire, etc. but a lot in simpler places - like my bed. A lot are based on dreams I have. I thought I'd share a tiny snippet!

Both written on a camping trip. The one on the right - around a fire.

Wrote this during a study block when I was stumped for ideas. I realized that there is no excuse to feel uninspired because everything has some sort of value, more or less.

eh, pretty blatant.

Right after I found out some of the best news.

Based on a dream

Written about my mother after I drove through empty parking lots and we watched the blood moon. We talked about things I don't think I'll ever forget.

My 'first day back to classes' anxieties. Lesson learned: everything turned out okay. I was anxious for nothing.