I have lost my groove. I don't think I have it in me anymore. I try desperately to write, clinging to emotions as if I'm clinging to life itself. But everything that comes out seems, feels and sounds forced. I guess my imagination died somewhere along the way to adulthood. Or I just became such a recluse that I can't write anything good anymore. I'm scattered, my mind is scattered. I lose track of my thoughts and everything comes out an incomplete and utter mess. I used to sit at my laptop for hours listening to music and dreaming up fantastical scenarios - partly true, but also imagined. I would mix truth and myth. And, oh man!, did I enjoy that! What happened? I feel like I'm trying to birth an 8 pound baby - someone give me the drugs!
In the end, I know that what I write isn't good (not even close). It's just what I do to work through my thoughts and feelings. For many years it's been my security blanket. But I guess it's time to put away childish things and get serious - should I stop writing and focus on more banal happenings? Most people would say yes. To be honest, at this point, I'd say yes too. But I can't... Hope subsides. I always hold out for a word, that one simple word that sparks inside you and makes you bleed a mountain of text onto paper (this case, laptop/blog).
I know that not many people read what I write, I have very few readers, but I thank every last one of you for keeping me motivated. I write for myself and for you. If any of these twisted ramblings entertains or helps a single person out there, it's a battle won for me. But someone, please, give me the drugs! :)
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário