Through the Living Wrath

I had thoughts.

They were bad thoughts.

Like

I automatically assume that what I try to do, my writing, is automatically terrible.

But…

That’s wrong. It’s not about good or bad. It’s about progress.

I always tell myself that, someday, I’ll be better. Someday I’ll be better at prose, better! And nothing in between. For me, it’s either that, or it’ll never work.

I can’t getter better without stumbling, without writing. I can’t look at every wrong move as proof that I will never be successful. Because if I do that, if that pushes me to stop, then I can never become successful.

Put bluntly, it’s incredibly implausible to be born with the innate skills I’m judging myself against. And if I look at every step and only see it’s flaws, then I’ll never see the progress.

Anyways, I had a rant to get off.