I haven’t been writing much these days. Not really. It’s not that I don’t want to write. In fact, I really want to write. I would love to write. Isn’t this the one thing that I’m good at? That I really like. That I really love. That I want to hold onto like the morning dew holds on to the petals of a flower.
But still, in spite of all this and more, I’m not writing.
There is too much noise in my life. Too much static. Disturbances. There are chores that need to be taken care of. Work that pays for my current life. A life that I never wanted. A life of tucked in shirts, and smart suits. Naah. I hated all that. But it pays for my life. The life that I never wanted.
Then there are things that I don’t want to do but still end up doing. The ‘yes‘ when I should have said ‘no’. The outings that contribute nothing to my existence or my wisdom. There are mindless chatters to be listen to. The endless clicks on the internet put as bait just for me.
Oh fuck you.
The mindless chatter in my mind won’t stop. It will fill the every available inch there is. Every second of my life. The only way to stop it is to write. And I’m not able to write because of this mindless chatter.
It’s a catch 22 situation. And I need to get out of it one way or the other.