Stop aspiring and start writing.
If you’re writing, you’re a writer.
Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and
the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon.
Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles,
on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say,
like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything,
and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves.
Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret,
so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone.
Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t.

// Alan Wilson Watts