The moment I close my eyes envisioning the blackest sky, I see bursts of blue and purple, I see vibrant white from the stars shining, the raindrops landing gently on my face and I take a deep breath and relax. The world is my mind now, so I grab a book and read slowly, so I can grasp all the details and the emotion composed in every sentence, or I grab some paper and a pencil and use my imagination to produce a beautifully drafted composition. Not only are ideas always forming but they are turning into a paradise; however, thoughts exist rarely in my mind. Reality returns and I apprehend that literacy is a challenge to me. Philosophy is the study of basic concepts, but for me to expand my knowledge I learned that I must read and write to advance my skills. The long, difficult journey for me began as I became aware that reading and writing were my principal weakness. Throughout the time I gathered wisdom about …show more content…
Writing is a journey, a long story, that I am supposed to convey. However, reading may be a challenge for me, but writing is a struggle. The difficulty of writing is from me not being able to portray my creativity, the complication with starting sentences and putting an essay together, to me that seemed impossible. In 8th grade I wrote every day, however, it didn’t feel like I was just writing, it felt like art where I could write what I wanted to while I was showing my creativity. I never had issues expressing myself in art class, I remember drawing and sculpting, and it felt like I was putting myself into my art, but I never realized I could look at writing as an art. I have friends who have shown me the beauty in writing, but still to this day there is no way I could write a beautiful piece. Writing is not my way of expressionism, it poses a challenge for me that I hope one day I will be able to rise