I’m not so different, after all.

I discovered something.

Not only, am I a better writer than first thought. Others like reading my stuff, also.

I am now open to a new world. I  used to think, I was odd or very different anyway, than most people.

I wondered, where are the people located who think a lot and are happiest alone, to think. The one’s I feel alike with or similar to.

There has to be at least one other person besides, myself and the writings of Dr. Seuss.

I feel I can relate with and enjoy in a familiar or same way without explaining myself.

 

It hit me this morning, I have kinship with other writers.

I’m not unique at all. I’m like a million other writers. I didn’t know, have a way of thinking; same as I do.

I had no idea the similarities in common. I mean the writing processes not the stories we write.

The more I read about authors, the more I belong to them. What took me so long to figure out, I fit in somewhere.

Where have all the writers been, I guess writing but I want to meet you guys and talk.

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