live. write.

Writing is a discipline. Anyone can produce several paragraphs of text in a burst of emotion, in a lightbulb moment, or, well, in an adrenaline rush to beat a school deadline. But to be a writer, to regularly come up with words worth immortalizing, that takes discipline. And anyone who's ever seen the mess in my room knows that I haven't got that much. Discipline, I mean. (Mess? Tons.)

The thing is, I like writing. More than anything in the world, except maybe traveling, and being with the people I love, and playing with my pets, and sleeping, and Omega-3 Gummy Fish.

So: I'm going to write. I am. Starting now. Because, even though I'm still in this seemingly endless phase of sorting out what I want to do and what I don't want to do, I do know that I do not want to let the rest of my life go by without lifting a pen. I'm going to live, and write about it. I'm going to be prolific. I'm going to flood the world with my words.

Even if I only come up with bits of nonsense such as this.

(It also takes discipline to carry out resolutions, so cross your fingers.)