Today Again

Here's a wonderful sentence, from Seth Mnookin in today's "Slate". Why can't I write sentences like this:
Southern Florida, way down at the bottom of the country, jutting off into the ocean, is a place where people come when things don't work out elsewhere.
Maybe I need to learn to think better. Maybe I need a subject. Maybe I need to learn to write with feeling.
This blog is turning into a chronicle of my attempts to become a writer (again? Looking back, do I think I ever was a writer? Actually, I'm usually pretty impressed when I read things I've written after some lapse of time).
I guess that if I've ever had a calling, communications is it.
It's just that I've never had anything profound to communicate.
Here's another sentence from the same article. Sound familiar?
I still said I was a writer, even though I didn't have the attention span or discipline even to keep a journal.
Of course, he's describing his recovery from heroin addition. What am I recovering from?
Life?
This is a great article. From the same PARAGRAPH as the above:
He's finished, he just doesn't know it. He'll never go back to New York, just like that 40-year-old actor will never even audition for the local community theater. Because they're all too fucking afraid of what it would mean to try and fail. I had written the script to his entire life when I realized it was my own.
Okay. This kid is inspiring. Here's a few sentences from the final paragraph:
It's easy to obsess about what might have happened when there are only two possible outcomes. But when you're not exactly sure what futures you're choosing between, whatever path you end up on finally feels inevitable.
I don't know what he'll inspire me to do, but he is a wonderful writer.