Consider this.

This post.

The one you're reading.

Right now.

Do you dig it?

I hated it.

For weeks.

I crumbled up three pieces of loose leaf paper with this idea.

It took five rewrites.

I scrapped it twice.

I waited.

I kept coming back to it.

It wanted to be finished.

I don't know why.

Perhaps because it was a post about my process.

I thought it sucked.

But it wouldn't go away.

It beckoned me to finish it.

Because it was hard.

I deleted the whole thing and started over.

I waited.

The struggle made it better.

I made a shit ton of mistakes in the first draft.

The second too.

I doubted you'd like it.

I thought you'd reject me.

I waited.

Then I wrote another word.

Then another.

I do it daily.

Come up with bad ideas.

Throw out most of them.

Then I keep on thinking of ideas.

I try not to stay stuck in the past.

I charge towards the next idea.

Every trashed post made me who I am.

You respond well to some ideas.

You despise others.

I'm waiting.

In the rain.

For you.