Most days I practice here.
Practice doesn’t make perfect in that room.
Some days I write here.
This is just a blog, and it doesn’t have to be perfect.
Everyday I try to live my life and follow my dreams to here.
But life isn’t always what I thought it’d be, so I can only try, try, try again until it feels right.
Most days I try to write in here and fight off the fear that I’m not good enough, funny enough.
I look to the greats and wonder if they were perfect.
Nothing should be.