New Eyes...Same World V

I was writing a lot more in the last few weeks. I found my creative writing class the match that seemed to be able to light my spark back up. My coach was everything I wanted her to be and our relationship was only getting better. I wasn't sure how I was going to write an entire book on my sexual liberation and not talk about the trauma, but I do not want to discuss that in my book. Writing about the trauma almost made me sound poetic and passionate but that can't be right. I've always been passionate, maybe I just need more inspiration. When I'm sad I write from the darkest corners of my heart and soul and when I am happy the comedian emerges and I can flip any sentence into an act. The problem I was facing these days was that the more I read my work, the more I hated it and I couldn't tell if that was from reading it too much or if I was just an awful writer...but does it matter?