Excuses

I have found that I make a lot of them. I tend to create multiple goals for myself, all at once, and then I become frustrated because I haven't accomplished any of them within a certain amount of time. But the problem is that I can't seem to focus on just one thing; it tends to be a slue of many things, therefore not allowing me to concentrate and get the job done right.
For years, I have said that I love to write and do photography and play guitar. However, I feel so mediocre when I do any of these things. When speaking with Andrew about this last night, he made the statement that even Van Gogh and Edgar Allen Poe felt this way. And I thought to myself, wow, he's right. It seems to be human nature to never be fully satisfied with the accomplishments that we have indeed made. It's so easy to get caught up in the tangle of everything and not see what's there right in front of your face.
So I'm going to try harder. I'm going to commit to myself for once and try to really do the things I love to do. Writing is one of those things.
For years all I wrote about were the things that depressed me. In looking back at all of my old poetry and ramblings, I almost got nauseous. A few years ago, when my writing came to an abrupt halt, I offered up the excuse that it was just too painful to put on paper. It would be like re-living everything again. I don't know how true that would be but lately, it's the exact opposite. My excuse now is that I'm happy and I have nothing to write about. But then I thought to myself, why does it have to be sad? Something can be deep and positive and soulful without the tears being attached.
So here I go. I'm going to try to write about anything and everything that pops up in my head, whether it be a conversation, a letter, a poem, a short story. In all reality, everything has the potential to be a story and we all have one to tell. So begins my own. Who knows what will be accomplished in the days to come.