Mar 5, 2018 — Leave a comment

The silence was too long due to the struggles of stringing together a semi-coherent story. My own refusal to commit to the project is mostly due to my fears. It’s strange to write about my own research and knowledge on the subject, but only to let the inner demons to haunt me from the inside out.

Coping is the key problem area. Then there are the lies the little negative voice squeaks out to ruin my sense of safety: work, work, work… all the time, so how could you blame yourself? All that energy used up by the day job and night. Come on. Relax. Let your mind and body rest.

Lame. Pathetic. Disgusting.

Netflix tends to be my source of comfort and avoidance from the good work. As addicting as the writing flow state is, it’s getting hard to start. Sitting there, staring and writing a line or two and giving up. But when the writing doesn’t begin, there’s a sense of depression that comes along with watching others march on.

There are so many half-baked ideas but the problem seems to be this massive backlog of them trying to get out. There are scribbles and random scenes that exist but never went anywhere. A few are even tossed away in the “give up” pile because of the resemblance of other existing projects that came to the popular masses. Ideas that seemed to exist in society rather than from an individual mind. Maybe someday resurrecting one for a repurpose could happen.

As the days went by and the weeks and the months… and the years… I’m here thinking about how it is possible to create something wonderful to share with everyone. I’m thinking about it but I can’t do it. I can write plans for it but not the actual project.

And so, there is my new concern: to build a system for myself, a writing routine to allow my workflow to flourish.

That is the next goal right now.

The root of my problem seems to be a terrible tendency to avoid my failures and fall into a consuming habit of physical pleasures and false emotional comfort.

There is still the raw intensity of my soul that is pushing against the chains of my restraining negativity and laziness derived from the fear of failure. And I know this isn’t a feeling felt alone as we all feel this way when we try to commit to our craft. Even the bad ones. Even the really terrible ones. Even the ones that suck the living souls out of the innocent consumers that simply want to escape the terrors of modern society.

It’s time to focus. Lame as it sounds, it’s time. The whining has ceased for now and it’s okay because the words are meaningless… only what’s behind the words that matter.




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