I waited until the very last minute to start writing this post. Not sure why. I kept pushing it away. But here I am writing again.
My friend Saskia wrote to me yesterday, after I posted my drunken post, and said “It is a journey, but you have talent and will overcome feeling unmotivated”, and I replied “It is a journey, and I am on a sweaty bus close to the toilet at the moment” which made her say “See, how can you say you’re not a good writer?”
So I keep writing.
I think a lot about writing. What I would want to write, how I would want to write, scenes and feelings, drama, romance and misery, but, somehow, I have lost my ability to write it down. That notebook I always carry in my bag is disturbingly unused and both my short stories and novels lay untouched. I have become lazy, and unmotivated.
So what can motivate me? Possibly that I, someday, will want to work with writing and writing only. That there is so much more I can do with words that I haven’t discovered yet. And that I actually can be very good at it.
I think that tomorrow I will write down how I feel when I write and it feels right. How it just clicks and I feel brilliant, because I miss that feeling and wouldn’t mind experience that again. I’ll add some writing I’ve done in the past, and I will imagine that my writing is a hot bath that I want to dive into once more.
Good night, now I am going to watch Finding Nemo.