To have a writer's soul.

To have a writer's soul can be the most beautiful, wonderful thing.

You see things that not a lot of people see. The birds chirping outside your window, you see them for more than what they are, which is just birds chirping outside your window. You think that maybe they were sent to your window. Maybe they were sent there to tell you something, or maybe they are just there to convince you of something. Maybe those birds, those very birds chirping outside your window, are there to pick you up when you're falling. They are the ones that are convincing you that the world is okay, that you are okay. Maybe they are there to show you that your life can go on, even when it feels like things are ending.

You see, hear, smell, taste, everything, differently. The words you hear, the conversations you participate in, everything is full of metaphors, irony, and cliches. You smell something delicious, and you wonder where it came from. Perhaps it came from the kitchen, the very kitchen where the cook and the waitress fell in love. Or maybe it's coming from the lunch of the girl sitting next to you in the cafeteria, the girl everyone calls weird, but you just label her as misunderstood. You see colors differently, patterns, stripes, randomization, it is all so beautiful to you.

Life is like poetry to you--it is different every time you turn around to look at it.

But to have a writer's soul can also be your downfall.

You see all the bad things that happen in everyday life. You see the mean things people say and do, and sometimes you even realize that it is you who is doing mean things. You feel awful every time you hear a rumor, and even worse when you feel the rumor slip out of your own lips. You go through everything just like everyone else, but you feel it more.

You imagine situations that you know will never happen. Everything that inspires you, tv shows, celebrities, it encourages you. It encourages your soul to share its thoughts with your imagination. And as you lie in bed in the darkness of the night, you are happy and sad and puzzled and confused, but most of all, you are awestruck. You are surprised at how fast everything is happening, to you and everything around you. And as you lie in bed thinking about how prince charming will someday sweep you off your feet, your soul suddenly realizes that in order to have a fairytale, there must be someone to create it.

And that's where you suddenly realize that you come in. You are here for a reason, and that reason is to live life as fully as you possibly can, but, more importantly that that, you have to be the one who writes your own memoirs.