Just Another Thought

 I was looking threw pitchures today, I had on my computer and came across a old story I had started to write some time ago.  I was amazed at what I had written and found my self lost in my own words.  Why did I give up on my desire to write? Why have I failed at taking the last steps needed to finish what I had started.  I have to make my self finish, I want to do this for my self  and for my children.  Writting has always been what I'v wanted my whole life.  When in grade school I joined a creative writting class and was always receving wonderfull feed back from my teachers and parents.  I recived awards and was asked to put my writtings in a contest and did so one time.  I don't remember winning but I was told I did great.  I never entered another contest after that.  I wrote a essay in Junior High once on abortion and was asked to read it to the whole 9th grade.  I would write songs when I was younger and was always told I was going to be a writter one of these days.  I guess life has just got in the way of my dreams.  I get lost when I write like I am in a new world a world of my own.  Writting just seems to flow through me like the wind blowing threw the buttom of a door on a cold wintery day. Or like vines in the spring time that find them selfs crawling up a fence post.  It is like seconed nature to me.  Writting is wear I find my insperation in life it is where I can escape from the world and be lost in my own.  I do not want to be found I just want to be left alone and endulge in my thought withmy keypad in front of me and the only sounds I hear are those of the keypad and my own thoughts.