Inadequacy

Eloquence is a painting of thoughts... - Blaise Pascal

Sometimes I get so frustrated with myself. I have so many dreams, I want to do so much, and yet... Yet I am not well equipped. Yet I am not ready. I don't have what it takes.

I want to write, it has always been my dream. But all I do, even with journals and blogs, is spill meaningless words out over and over. Reuse the same old words, recycle the same old things.

When I read a beautiful sentence, a perfect verse, I could almost weep with envy! How I admire the way some writers express themselves clearly, every word exactly what it should be. How others can 'paint their thoughts' so well, and all I can do is produce a mediocre picture at best.

Even with the amount of novels I've been through, I never seem to be able to absorb the language, never am able to master words.

When I read Saki, and Gaiman, even Wilde, it breaks my heart that they write with such an elegance I could never hope to achieve...

:(