Smoke and Mirrors

I must admit, that my writing is not only moody, inarticulate but it's just kind of poor. And I am sorry. Much was learnt this past weekend, The Word, was (finally), THE word. Real, unchanging, articulate, and far from poor. As a "being" trying to mimic the word, my failings have been made clearer to me, than probably ever before. But what has made all the difference, and I kid you not (really), is that having THE word being revealed to me has somehow made my failings, not be fixed like a poorly raised barn, but rather they have made my words, my failings, be...eraseable? I have found freedom in being able to toss the imitations aside (not that it as easy) and begin to believe again in The Word.
When I realized that my sentences were written, not in ink but in pencil - and that I was able to re-write, have other people edit my work, and just generally examine the story I was choosing to write - wow, it made all the difference.

I understand this too is not the best explanation of what has happened. I'll try again when I have more than 3 minutes. But I wanted...to put in a word.