Inspiration does not come when I demand it. It comes in the moments of sleep, before the dreams begin. I am waiting every moment for the answer to all my questions to come to me. I want something to write about, blog about. I have a problem writing about my personal life. I don’t like to relive every day in words. It seems tedious to me. When I journal, I do not record. I know keeping a record of events is good for posterity. After all, the world as we know it may end very soon. We may have to start again, and then where is my contribution to our history? There are other records of the life we lived here, but my voice will not be among the cries of history.
Perhaps I should be content with lending my voice to our present and our future. Never look back. That is what they say. Never look back at the past, for it is gone, unchangeable, and it has already changed you for good.
Moving on. I find it hard to write everyday. I feel like a dying flame somedays. Other days I find it hard to breath, let alone write. It is as if my mind and my words are trapped in a safe and I can no longer remember the combination. Every sentence is an effort to write. Nothing comes out right. In the past few months, every time I try to write I feel like I’m swimming against the tide.
My life has changed so much in the past few months, and yet I don’t know how to even begin telling people anything that has happened. Whenever someone asks me, “What’s new with you?” I lie and tell them nothing. The truth is, my career may be changing drastically in the next six months. I have discovered a talent for business that I never knew I had. I nearly destroyed my relationship of six years because I had one brief moment of doubt, and at the moment I am trying to rebuild all that I destroyed. It’s hard to explain. I know that I am having a hard time writing down the thoughts that are in my mind because I am having a hard time understanding exactly what it is that I think. I am confused. For the past month, I have been repeating the words, “I don’t know what I want.”
And I don’t. I don’t know what I want in love. I don’t know what I want to do with my life. I have built a barrier in my mind, tunneling my vision towards the future, where I imagine some amazing event will occur where the fog in my life will clear and I will begin to truly live my life. I know I cannot wait for something to happen. I am the change. Still, for some things, waiting is all I have. For others, I must work to fix my mistakes and rebuild the foundations I have wrecked.
All I ever wanted is to become a popular writer. I want to know people. I want people to know me. I want to blog and have twenty comments. I want people to read my words and I want to establish relationships with my readers. I have done nothing to make that dream a reality. When people enter my life, I shut them out. I don’t maintain relationships. I close down from criticism. I go months without writing. I never finish a story.
Somedays I feel like I should give up. Somedays I convince myself that I am not meant to do this, but on some rare days I brush all that doubt aside and I write
