Today I’ve been trying to avoid writing. Perhaps afraid that my words will not be enough or that I will run out of them all together. What would happen to my value if I fell silent? I’m feeling a bit melodramatic if you can’t tell.
This post is not meant to be provocative or existential. I am merely venting my concerns and wrestling with my gift. Hopefully by writing just to write I’ll receive a jolt of creativity. Nearly completing the book I began writing years ago has prompted this temporary anxiety. I don’t think I ever truly believed that I would finish it and now that I am close to doing so I’m getting a little too excited. Wanting the book to leave a lasting impression once it is finished has me overthinking the ending. That's my I'm writing this, I'm procrastinating.
Anyways, thank you for reading my random thoughts. Hopefully very soon I’ll have an update on the book.
I love this so much. Your authenticity, vulnerability, and just plain realness is very refreshing. Thank you for posting this.