There was a day that I started to think I had done nothing of worth. Nothing that would have any meaning once I’d left the earth. I spent many sleepless nights wondering about what to do. To make it so my life had meaning when everything was done.
But I didn’t have a single skill that could help me, Not one I could use to make or change this world in some way. I’d spent all my life reading, about journeys past. And so the only solution I could come to was to leave my home, To find some meaning, somewhere.
I write Poetry and fiction as a hobby, I've written a full book but never managed to get it published.
My poems tend to be thoughtful and philosophical with a touch of spirituality.
My fiction is mostly sci-fi and fantasy but usually with twists and interesting ideas thrown in there. I have been told I don't have a solid grasp of genre, which is fair since the whole concept doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me anyways, I write what I want, and nothing else.
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