Here comes the weekend, and we meet again. I almost posted a lot of things this week – a post on feminism and why I hate Trump so much, two-three posts dug from my long list of drafts I wrote weeks ago but didn’t post and have become too irrelevant now, and just a few moments ago, another long rant about loneliness, self-doubt and over-thinking. I stopped myself when I realized I might as well have been turning my blog into a diary while my real one stayed silent in my bookshelf. What interests me might not interest you, and to be honest, my last few weeks have been so uninspiring that I rarely take interest in my own work. I’ve been writing every day only because I’ve set a goal and have achieved quite a great steak which I cannot imagine breaking. I know some day when I’ll look back at these uninspired pieces that I’ve been writing, I might get an idea to transform them into something of worth, but for now, writing has been feeling a lot like work and hate that. I feel like I’m not going anywhere, as if I’m trying to climb up a descending escalator.
I feel like perhaps I’ve let down all the people who read this blog and have been leaving comments on it. My blog has been an abandoned place for some time now, even though I’ve been posting regularly. My life isn’t really that interesting right now and neither is my work. What else do I write about? I don’t have a sense of humor nor am I an expert on anything to write a post that might make you laugh or giggle or perhaps help you in some way. I’m afraid Scribblings of a Storyteller is slowly turning gloomy and depressing and maybe that’s why no one is reading it anymore. I keep sharing links on Facebook and Twitter in the hope that someone will show up. I’m a really optimistic person, trust me, but at times I feel like I’m being irrational. Am I? I over-think a lot. Of the few resolutions I’ve made this year, I’ve failed to keep the ones that would really make me happy. I’m being productive but I’m not investing in my relationships enough. Sometimes the frustration of an uninspired day or the unfriendly reminder from my brain that I’m lonely comes out on my sister – someone with whom I’ve got to build my ties stronger. She’s so young, and a year later I might as well be heading for college on another continent and by the time I’ll be back she would’ve grown up into a stranger I would have to connect with on a new level.
I don’t know what to do. I need to get my fix. But how? I don’t have time enough to spend time reading books or watching movies because exams are coming up and I feel so unprepared, nor does it seem like inspiration would come to me. I know the writing advice that goes something along the lines that if you’re waiting for inspiration to get to work, you’ll be waiting all your life. Only one thing leads the way: continuing the way things are – studying and writing 750 words a day and doing the things on my to-do list, things that would take me closer to the bright future I imagine for myself.
I hope this week has been inspiring and productive for you. I hope that you had someone to actually sit down and have coffee with, someone to laugh with. I hope that when you went to bed at the end of the day, you smiled because life was good to you that day.
A failure is not always a mistake. It may simply be the best one can do under the circumstances. The real mistake is to stop trying. -B. F. Skinner