My dream is to become a writer

I've loved writing since I was little. I always wrote about my day-to-day life in my diaries, I even felt like I needed to write. The urge to write frees my soul.

I have this desire to be a writer. And at that time, I remember another passion joining this one. I became obsessed with horror—I only watch horror movies, I only read horror books, I live and breathe horror.

I have this desire to combine these two passions— to be a horror writer. I have a clear idea of what I want to become in the future. I picture my daily life, the way I talk, the way I dress, the way I walk. I picture all of it

I want to live in my words, in the worlds I create, with my characters. I want to dress in black, in a sophisticated way. I want to give off the image of a serious, intelligent person with a mysterious aura.

I can imagine myself, sitting at a gothic-style desk, writing frantically while listening to the rain tapping against the windows. Surrounded by my favorite horror books, feeling a sense of comfort. Not having to deal with bad bosses, or the egos and malice of my colleagues. I picture myself being free, living a simple life. Traveling and exploring new adventures to incorporate into my stories.

Is this dream achievable? It might be, or it might not. For now, I’m content writing here and on other places on the internet.

I would love to make a living from my writing, to have a routine where I could include my reading, my love for horror films, without having to sacrifice my sleep.

It’s a very distant dream. But I think it’s better to try than to reach the end of my life and look back with regret for not having tried. We all have an end coming, and life is short. It’s better to try and deceive ourselves with hope than to live a miserable life, dreaming of something we’ll never have.

At the same time, I want my stories to have an impact on people's lives. I want them to make people feel something. I would also like to leave an impact on this world. To leave a legacy.

Maybe I'm dreaming big, but I want to try and I want to succeed.

I want to be able to live off my writing so I can leave my toxic job behind, never having to deal with those horrible people again, and never having to look at them. The desperation to try and succeed makes me believe that I can.

It's difficult to find time to write. The day has so few hours to do so many things. I have so much on my plate, but I don't want to sacrifice my writing. Because I feel it’s a part of me, and it's a therapy for me.

But I'll try until the end of my days. Maybe I won't conquer anything I want, but at least I’ll have tried, and that will give comfort to my soul knowing I truly gave it my all.