Was just talking to a friend - interestingly, on the topic of writing. Strange how the faster you try to grow up, the more you realize that who you really are could very well be epitomized by who you were as a child. Or maybe it was the intensity by which we, as children, believed in things. Like how I believed that I would one day be the youngest person to author a book (hey that's what kids do alright, dream!). I remember how I'd save up money to buy paper, and how the collection of fresh pages would get me excited about my next short story. There was the endless days of poring through books... then reading through them again and again to get something new from the pages. Then Christopher Paolini penned his first book, Eragon, at the age of 15. And I dropped that dream. Same with animation. Same with dancing. Same with music. It makes me think what I'm actually driven by? I'm glad I dropped those dreams then, if my motivation wasn't right. It reminds me of Coach C