When did you know?

When did you know you were right handed? When did you know you liked ice-cream? When did you know you thought puppies were cute? When did you know you think eating animals is gross? When did you know you liked music? When did you know you were intimated by intelligent women? When did you know you wanted to be a writer?

Throughout my life, people have often asked me: “When did you know you wanted to be a writer?”

I never knew/know how to answer. I never wanted to be a writer. I just was/am a writer. When I’m standing in the shower I think in fully constructed sentences. A lot of my writing starts in the shower. I process everything I hear, everything I observe, everything I as if I’m writing those things with the typewriter in my brain. I’m constantly translating images into words, into sentences.

Also, I am a brilliant consumer and of sugar and writer of poetry.
The man who just told me he’d keep me safe woke me up from a nap.

Anyway. When did you know you liked chocolate? I don’t know. But I started writing about chocolate ice cream when I was five.