So much talent.
So much feeling.
So much passion.
My fellow writers have written rants and odes and soliloquies with such perfection, such magnificence.
I have come upon many Pakistani bloggers, and reading their words catapulted me into a whirlwind of emotions.
I am happy, that my fellow countrymen have so much talent.
I am awed, that we have so many talented writers.
I am proud, of them and of the magic they weave with their word.
But, I am also envious.
I am scared.
I feel like a complete and utter imbecile when I see post upon post upon post of words of wisdom. When I see archives full of photos and drawings and beautiful poetry.
Then I look upon myself and I think;
I am no one. I am not special. My words are one of many. They are worthless.
My archive is not as full as it should be. My posts do not entertain.
My rants are lengthy and petty.
My views do not strike the gut as important.
They will never affect the world as I want them to.
I must up my game.
I must become better and better until I can be proud of myself.
Until I can boast, I write. What do you do?