A shrieking noise breaks through my dreamless sleep and yanks me out like a fish on a hook. At first, I can't quite figure out where the noise is coming from. I blink a couple of times before I realise that it's the alarm on my phone and that I should probably turn it off. I let loose a sigh that billows out in little white clouds against the chill of the air. The heating must be broken again
Here is a compassionate letter I wrote to myself as part of my journey in learning to love who I am.
Within these four walls of my bedroom, I sit quite comfortably. The only movement I make is to turn the page, and the only noise is the whispering sound it makes. For a student on a Friday night, this might seem strange. Shouldn’t I be getting ready to go out, blasting my music from my stereo to the high heavens? Or, maybe, binge watching TV shows on Netflix with my best friend that lives only down the hall, gorging on pizza?
A short-story in three sentences. Based on a prompt given in class.
A piece of creative non-fiction I created by wandering around aimlessly for ten minutes, experiencing the autumnal city-scape around me, then writing about what I noticed and thought about at the time
Self-doubt is something I, along with many others, experience on a day-to-day basis. In fact, the only reason I held off from creating a blog until now was because I didn't feel that I was good enough. I am constantly doubting whether my writing is of the same quality as others, and I know not to compare my work to others (we all have different styles after all) but it doesn't stop me from thinking that what I produce isn't as good as it could be. It is for this reason I suppose, that I hesitate before calling myself a writer. Instead, I call myself an aspiring writer. The word aspiring leaves some wiggle room. It clearly shows my aim, but leaves enough space for improvement.