move away from the wall, wallflower.

I promised myself to write, so I am writing, even when I have nothing to say.

Yesterday I spoke with the Great Pam, via instant message. She is an aspiring writer, and a far better one than me. I find this the case with most of my friends. I consider myself a sort of…um…an apprentice? Something like that. Anyway, I digress…

Yesterday I spoke with the Great Pam, and we concluded to make a website dedicated to aspiring writers. There are a million writing websites out there, of course, but it sounds like a fun project. Anyone will be welcome to join. Kind of like a support group, I think.

Speaking of, my boss is still wants me to join her group of writers. I won’t disclose the name here, since I feel undeserving (and completely flattered) by the invitation. Though, to be completely honest, it’s not so much the sharing and “productive” criticism that unnerves me. It’s being in a group of people. I just don’t do well in big groups. I go from a friendly, well-spoken woman, to a wordless wallflower.

I am not as bad as I used to be. I thank my roommates for this. They have pushed me out of my social shell, and, low and behold, there is more to life than a snuggly blanket and good book.

It’s phenomenal, really, the way my life has changed since moving here. The way my eyes have opened, how I finally believe that, hey, I really am worth getting to know. I’ve also learned that in order to write, I have to experience things, and one can only experience so much behind the walls of their home.

So, though I must convince myself to do it sometimes, I open the door, step outside, and do the bravest thing of all: live.