Of Writing Wants

I want to write.
Though I don't know what about.
One book said to take the ordinary things in your life and weave them into something extraordinary.
But with such an ordinary, typical life, what makes any of this so extraordinary?- or is that the catch?
One paragraph said you should usually write about things outside yourself.
But aren't you always going to be better to write things about yourself, seeing as you are you?
The things you know best are going to be the things you can most accurately describe to your readers, yes?
The soldier writes about the war- outside and inside of himself.
The reporter writes about the battle and reads the story aloud around the dinner table.
The general writes about the death toll and how to improve casualty model.
The civilian writes about the violence- in his community and in his kids.
The politician writes about the success- claiming the good; blaming the bad; embodying the ugly.
But what can I write about?
Well, I know myself very well, I guess.
I know the emotions I feel- love, frustration, loneliness, joy- are all just emotions, but true ones at that.
I know the struggles I have between letting go and holding on, just to list one of the hundreds.
I know about my love of creativity and the outlets so brilliantly designed for me to let them out of my head (and why i believe it was designed in the first place).
I guess don't really know much about politics, social changes, world poverty, or war- and I wish I did.
But I have this blog, and I know I want to write- so I do, and just did.