I Wish I Were A Writer

I imagine myself waking up to the soft sounds of the ocean waves rolling in. A smile comes across my face, knowing all I have to do is write that day. Not for anyone, but for me. I have so much to say to no one, except myself. The years no one listened, no one cared…the years everyone was in it for themselves and I just grew silent as I sat in the corner observing. Every letter imprinted in my brain as a wicked memory that became my programming for social dysfunction and lunacy. So I go back to the ocean. A place I have never even known…a place that exists in my imagination…where other people exist and are happy to smell the scent of the ocean and feel its soul in their bones.