It’s silly, but I feel like I don’t have as many hours in the day now.
I feel odd, out of sorts. I’m a stubborn person, so sacrificing my personal projects because of school sucks. If I could, I’d spend more time writing and blogging for myself.
This blog has benefitted me in so many ways. I’m happy I have something to call my own.
Whenever possible, I’ve tried to do what feels right by me, regardless of what others say. I’m doing the best I can.
I wish I could do everything every day, but like I said before, I can’t. And that’s okay. I’m trying to figure out who I am as a writer, a blogger. Who I want to be. While I don’t have all the answers, I know this much: I love creating.
In the past, I believed I had to do in order to learn. But sometimes not doing can teach a lot too. Besides, I go through phases where I prioritize different projects. So sometimes blogging takes a backseat.
It’s hard to put out content every single day. Kudos to those of you who do.
My biggest fear in life isn’t failure. It’s not trying.
I somehow convince myself that I’m not good enough. As a result, I don’t try sometimes.
It’s 2019, and I’m still just as hard on myself, if not even harder.
I have to try. I have to try my best.
I know I don’t handle failure well though. I’m working on it. I wish I could easily embrace mistakes.
I’m aware that by not trying, in a way I avoid failing. Still, I fail in a different way. I fail if I don’t try.
This year, I want to take risks I haven’t before. If I don’t try, I’ll never know. If I don’t ask, the answer will always be no.
When I was younger, I was more fearless, less afraid. Back then, I felt like I had less to lose. But I don’t have much to lose now either.
Ideally, I’d publish a book before I have kids. Now that I’ve put my intention out into the world, I hope to follow through. The first step is trying to tell the best story I can. I’ve given myself a somewhat flexible due date. Without a timeline of some kind, I could spend my whole life writing novels but never publishing them. At this point, I just need to start somewhere. Unfortunately or maybe fortunately, starting is the hardest part.
Sometimes I feel uninspired to create.
I’ve been wondering whether I want to write and blog every day in 2019. Even though I enjoy both, it’s hard work.
I want to be excited about the creative process again. I’m not giving up. Right now, I just need a new start.
At first, I felt like I had to create every day. Nowadays, I still feel a bit beholden to my past self.
I’m in a bit of a rut. I know I should make some changes, but that’s easier said than done.
Going forward, I will try not to be so hard on myself. As much as I love creating, I also love doing other things.
I know I’ll regret what I didn’t do more than what I did. I owe it to myself to live my life. Even if that means I don’t blog every day or write as much as before.
In many ways, I’m still trying to figure out my place in this world. As a blogger. As a writer. As a human being.
I love getting into the zone and losing track of time. It was easier when I had less on my plate. Unfortunately, like everyone else the older I get, the more obligations I have.
Being so immersed in another world that the real one falls away is an incredible feeling. I tend to come out of those sessions feeling energized, even if I just spent the past two hours writing.
Of course, getting into the zone is tougher than simply sitting down in a chair. It requires you to start, which is often the hardest part.
Losing track of time because you’re so caught up in your w.ork can happen when you least expect it to. Sometimes a little pressure courtesy of a deadline helps as well.
Personally, I make a schedule and set aside some time for creative work every day. I don’t always get into the zone. When I do, I don’t always expect to stay in the zone for too long. Then again, when things are going well, I don’t want to stop. I want to keep going until I can’t.
Writing is hard. On one hand, it helps. On the other, writing hurts. It’s therapeutic at times. But some days when I pick up a pen, I return to a difficult past.
On bad writing days, I wonder why I’m wasting my time. On better ones, I tell myself there is nothing else I’d rather be doing.
Over the summer, I actually took a break from creative writing. I thought it was much needed.
I fell in love with writing because it allowed me to reclaim my happiness. Then again, writing can be painful too.
I recall the past when I write, only to realize it’s gone. I don’t have yesterday anymore. I only have today.
For better or worse, I will write. I’m never going to let anyone stop me.
Writing gives me the chance to start again. I have to make a conscious effort to start anew. Easier said than done but it must be done. Even if I spend the rest of my life trying, at least I can die knowing that I tried. I made an effort. I didn’t quit, give up. I won’t take the easy way out. That’s not fair to myself. Easy isn’t always better.
Growing up, I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to write. I loved creative writing. I still do.
Over the years, I’ve seen my work change before my eyes. I’ve come so far. Of course, there’s so much further for me to go.
No matter what I do or don’t do in the years to come, I’ll still make writing a priority. I have no reason to rush the creative process. I can stop and smell the roses. I should enjoy this seemingly endless rollercoaster ride. I have to appreciate the highs as well as the lows.
I don’t know much. I do know that when I don’t write, I don’t feel right.
I wonder what kind of writing I’ll pursue further. Creative or professional? Something in between? Something else entirely? We’ll see.
I don’t want to regret not taking a risk, so I have to try at the very least. I don’t want to ask what if for the rest of my life.
I wish I could do everything, but I can’t. I just try to prioritize writing when possible. I don’t mind sacrificing other things. I’m even fine studying less if that means writing more. I suppose I’ve always seen myself as a writer.
Happy December! As a writer, there are many things I want for Christmas.
- A finished manuscript. I seriously need to stop abandoning stories.
- Some new ideas. Sometimes I have too many. Sometimes I don’t have any.
- More time. 25 hours in a day would be nice.
- Small acts of kindness. Is that too much to ask for?
- Peace and quiet. A baby crying nonstop is the complete opposite.
- Someone to retrieve my sanity and bring it back to me. I don’t have any monetary reward, but I’ll dedicate my first book to you.
- More money in my bank account. So I can buy stuff I don’t need.
- A lifetime supply of books. I’m running out of space so…
- Another bookshelf. Too bad my room is too small for that.
- A house with a library in it. And on office.
- The imposter syndrome to go away. Does it ever?
- I’d love for my muse to come back to me. I’m not sure where it’s gone. Probably somewhere nicer and warmer.
- Procrastination can leave me alone. The door is that way. I hope it bites you in the head, you big pest.
- A strong dose of inspiration. The stronger the better.
- I need motivation. Desperately.
- Good sleep. Restful nights where I don’t wake up at an ungodly hour and start to contemplate all of my life choices.
- A better sense of humour. Or someone who gets my sarcasm.
- To see people I want to see and not see people I don’t want to. Knowing my luck however, the exact opposite will happen. I see someone who is a stranger to me more than I see my best friend. The universe clearly enjoys toying with my emotions.
- Patience. Current status: non-existent. I have no idea how people keep calm and collected all the time. I can’t control myself. I’m out of control. Send help.
- I really want to get over my fear of operating a motor vehicle, so I can drive myself far, far away and write for days. That’s my goal in life.