As a writer I am pretty dull. Most works are nothing but meaningless words thrown together to make sense of a pointless topic.
Only when feeling down can I truly amaze myself with the art of words. When feeling sad and hurt, I write of darkness, of fantasy. These things I write so elaborately and eloquently that I almost wish every piece could be as such, but mostly I just do as told.
The strict restrictions of school and my choice of art prevent me from free expression through simple words on white paper. As a writer I do not see myself, I see a student doing as told. However as a dreamer, I see truth in myself. I find freedom with the pen, but only on my own and only in my darkest hours. A writer, I am not, but a dreamer, that I am.