I need to write. But somehow, I just cannot seem to do it. Words seemed pour out from my finge, chalking up the word count as I go, but I am not satisfied. The words felt empty. Like a body without a soul. It felt as if I am not writing anything at all. The words were supposed to make a sentence, and the sentences strung a story, but somehow, they just seem disjointed and all out of place. Like a car almost out of fuel, spluttering along before giving one last puff and dies.
I am not really writing. I am merely vomiting out words for the sake of words. The words have no meaning, they do not point to anywhere, there’s no grand conclusion or significant plot twist to them. Perhaps the inevitable has finally occurred. That writing has finally become a routine for me. A work that I need to do. Work. Writing, instead of a hobby, has become work.
I sat staring at the screen, thinking of all the things I could write. A grand story about love, ideals and sacrifice. A tale of an adventure of a lifetime. But somehow, the more I think about it, the harder for me to sustain a story. There are many grand openings that float in my head, stories that start off with a bang, but there were no end in sight for them. I have so many ideas to start so many things, but somehow I have not the slightest clue of how to end them. Like a plot twist, a lesson that I want to teach. But I have none. So all them have a head, but not a tail.
Maybe because my past stories have been a reflection of my story, instead of just a random story that I try to conjure out from nowhere. Those stories had a soul to it. But ain’t writers supposed to be great storytellers as well, crafting out stories that pull you in to the world that the authors created?
Or maybe it's just me. I always start stuff, but I can never seem to finish them. I tend to lose interest halfway in the projects that I start, distracted by other things that appear in life. And that bad habit tend to get reflected here as well.
Maybe it's time to tie myself to the chair, and force some none existent motivation to come into place. To force myself to stay focused, and stick to my goal to the very end.
Or maybe it's time to get myself diagnosed with ADHD.