In The End

As I sit here wondering what to type. I sit and listen to the words of Linkin Park,hoping beyond hope that it will spark something in me to type up the best story ever written.But alas, I know that is impossible. I may be able to create the best story of the year, or the month even, but there have been too many great books in this world, that I couldn't possibly compete with them. The masters of story telling, to me, are writers such as Stephen King (the all time master of literature), S.E. Hinton, Edger Allen Poe, William Shakespeare, James Patterson, P.C. Cast+Kristin Cast, and Ellen Shreiber. Those are a few of my favorites atleast. The main one I would be honored to meet is Stephen King. To me he is the master of allwriters! His stories are filled with such emotion, such horror, such beauty, if I were to write a book that came at least a fraction close to his great works I would be overjoyed! But alas, there lays the problem, I have yet to complete a single work that I have started. I had one story that I thought would make it in the world of famous literature. I had started writing it when I was fourteen or fifteen. But I found out how terrible it really was when I picked it up recently and reread it. I found many errors. After reading half of it I just threw it down. I couldn't stomach reading anymore. It was an embarressment!
I have been trying to think of the greatest story ever. I have written down ideas that, if linked together in just the right way would create an amazing novel! (Not one as good as Stephen King's, but still, exceptable.) But after writing down the little paragraphs of information, I have yet to come up with a way to link them together. Every time I try to think of a story my mind goes blank. It's like it is trying to tell me that I'm either not ready to write a novel, or that it is impossible for me. I feel like I have lost my imagination. I use to come up with so many mini stories in my head! I had imaginary friends, I would play out my stories, I would create fan fictions in my mind. But this year, I have yet to come up with even a full character!
Has my imagination run from me? Have I lost all ability to imagine stories and characters? Will I ever be able to write and complete a great novel? I don't know the answer to any of these questions, but I wish I did. Hopefully one day my imagination will return or become more active, and I will be able to write more. Until then I sit and ponder until my mind feels like it is going to explode! In the end, I will either break out of this imagineless depression, or I will forever put myself down, and never attempt to recreate my imagination!