I had sort of an epiphany last night, right as I was falling asleep. I'm surprised I even remember it, because it was during that phase of sleepiness, that I like to describe as the "dusk." It's right before you fall asleep, your mind is looping with thoughts that don't make much sense, as your brain prepares for dreamy-dream land.
I was thinking, once again, about walking off my writing career path. I was comparing myself to other magazine writers I know, and don't know. And thought, "I could never write like that, I'm never going to make it."
Then I started thinking about my artist friends. The ones who work as animators and graphic design artists, and how they don't like their jobs much either. Most of them say, they're just day jobs they struggle with, in order to make enough money to create the real art that they want to, without "starving." Some are modern artists, some are realists, others... copycats.
I think the same can be said of writers. I may not write like some of the people I work with (thought I won't be here much longer) but I do have my own style. Just like any kind of art, each writer has their expression, their own way of doing things. So maybe I shouldn't give up just yet.