whata I know?

Walking to work today I had this desire to be great, great at something - to put an effort forth that few others would match but I reasoned that I didn't have time to be great, with all that required effort and all.

The few things that raced through my mind of which I wanted to do in a manner great all involved time I couldn't see the likes of me putting forth.


"What about being great at your job? Either or both."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"At least you would have the time."


I then wondered if people get as exasperated with me during a conversation as much as I exasperate myself.

Why can't that voice just go alone to get along? Why does he always have to be a prick? Why does he have to make points which I hate, but agree with?



To my surprise, writing was on the list. I wish to write greatly. I want to make people laugh out loud or quietly sob with just my mere words. I want them to mouth the word 'wow' afterwards. I want them to have to sit and think, rest up a bit before carrying on.

but...

you write what you know