The worst kind of writer that you can be is the type of writer that I have been: one who does not write. So then, how could I call myself a writer?
In elementary school a teacher once shared with the class the notion that "what you are to be, you are now becoming." I did not totally grasp the severity of the situation at that time, but as with most things in life you begin to understand the deeper meaning of words and events through time and experience, and this particular scenario is no different. What I am to be I have now become, a writer who has not written.
Well not a writer who has not written entirely, but rather a writer which has not wrote enough. Not nearly enough. And for this I apologize. Not to you who reads this, and certainly not to I who writes this, but to the stories, the articles, and the essays themselves. For not applying the due diligence to research. For not displaying the ability to focus. But most of all, for not taking the time to just write.
So once again I sincerely apologize. Not that you were waiting. My stories were.
I will not make them wait any longer.
[*Editor's Note: "There will be appearing from the date of this entry archived pieces which were intended for release and consumption earlier."]