Where the Heart Is

 There's something in me that wants to write. I don't know what it is, but I want it to be my best friend. I want to fall into it and let it grasp me. I want to hold it tight and never let it go. It might be the only chance I have. 

 What if all you can do is write? What if you suck at everything, except for drawing? You might as well quit when you try anything else, but you have the hands of a god with a paintbrush in your hand. Is it like that?

 Do what you love. Don't stop doing it, no matter what anyone else says. It is the process that makes it beautiful. Where is your heart? Is it laying discarded beside the paints you had laying on your desk since your glory days? Pick it up and whatever it is with.

That is all.