I fear the future. I fear my “talent” of writing. And I lack intense ambition and confidence in myself and my abilities. But this blog, this internet site blooming with possibility and opportunity, leaves me smiling and with a somewhat positive attitude pertaining to my future. Communication is everything. It’s knowing the right facial expression to give to a stranger at the bus station. It’s learning how to twist the story of how the vase in the living room broke in order to receive little to no punishment. It’s typing text messages that appear similar to The Bible in length just to get your point across. Communication is the only way to interact and it’s an amazing thing. The joy I get from writing something that reassures my wants for the future is indescribable. How amazing are words and the challenge that comes with figuring out how to string them together in an intellectual yet creatively youthful way. This is what I want to do when I’m 27 with babies on the brain and a hopefully handsome husband on my arm. I want to be able to rack my mind for synonyms and adjectives, not for money signs or possible cancer cures. I want to write an article that leaves the reader contently consumed with my words. Or maybe I take a route other than print journalism and I end up figuring out punchlines for products that draw customers in, either way my life should be filed to the brim with words and communication. This is my passion. For others it’s a sport or theater. But nothing will give me the same energy that I receive from the written word. I think I have a talent here. I think I’m being rational when I predict that my future years of college will have me buried under essay assignments and the responsibility of this blog. Writing is like a good cup of coffee. It’s rich and hot and makes your day better, but its steam also holds the ability to hurt. Writing makes me recognize the power held within everyone’s being. The challenge is learning to manipulate the power. I think I have the beggining foundation to be a good writer. The manipulation of words has become somewhat easy. I know how to make you cry, laugh, or red in the face with anger. I have a flair with poems, haikus are the best, objectively speaking. And I find this art to be beautiful. Most importantly I love it. I love writing and I don’t know if I have ever loved anything or anybody more (besides family of course).This post has left me smiling, for every piece I write, even if it only holds one brilliant sentence, gives me the push I need to continue on.