Writing

I've been writing again. A sad tale I can't really go into yet. I can't divulge the meat of my story or I will loss all motivation. The only person I can talk about it to is Anthony. It's interesting, discussing things with him. He and I, we are so different. Everything is shades of gray to me. So much that it makes it hard to disagree with most people. I can always see where others are coming from.
Anthony, on the other hand, is everything in b/w. At least he can debate and concede if he sees my point.
When I feel restless, I write. I need to get out of my head, out of my life, even for a moment. I do this a lot. Sometimes I get obsessed with televisions show and that is my nightly escape. Recently, I've found comfort in the world of Twilight. Once that fever started to wain, I've taken to writing, obsessively.
I've always said I'm at artist without any art. Writing has always been my art and the only thing that turns me into an eccentric artist. By that I mean, the only thing that will keep me up late, typing furiously with a crazed look in my eye. I get so intense I start scribbling on receipts as I drive down the word when I mentally come up with the perfect sentence.
My writing comes in phases. Like I said, only when I'm restless or sad or incredibly busy doing other things. Most of the time, my life is ho-hum and happy, which makes writing incredibly difficult. I can feel that even attempting it will be futile.
I have a million ideas for stories. All sad and morbid. But those are the times that really make you human, which is why I think I'm obsessed with the topic. The problem is, I can never come up with endings. On the off chance that I do, so starts the obsession.
I start doubting myself and kicking myself for not getting myself educated in creative writing. I need to break down and take a creative writing class. I know I had talent. I have to remind myself that not everyone can pen a story start to finish or have the gift of written gab.
I know there must be tons of uneducated writers. I don't know of any though.
I doubt myself and then look back at past journal entries or blog entries and I surprise myself at how profound my writing can be sometimes. I need to hold on to that feeling.