What?
The day I can answer that question, I can begin to write seriously. Sadly, nothing serious holds my attention for long; I find too much humour, twisted or otherwise, in everything.
I love reading, mainly about fictitious worlds that have little to do with the boring one. It feels as though my imagination seeks validation in the literary arts. I would love to write, but like cooking, I don't find my work as enjoyable as others. The effort that goes into it ruins the experience.
In case I don't ever get to write, I will try.
