“If you find yourself asking yourself (and your friends) ‘Am I really a writer? Am I really an artist?’ Chances are you are. The counterfeit innovator is wildly self-confident. The real one is scared to death.” – Steven Pressfield
Well… This is depressing. Creativity, my lover, please come back to me. I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong, but the people who reside in my mind are becoming anxious and angry. Please forgive me for all of my constant and continued complaints. You’re so good to me and I don’t deserve you.
I’ve been lost in a gloomy, unwritable world for a while now. It’s confusing, uninspirational, and frustrating. I feel like I’ve been shaking an empty jar, expecting glitter to spew. Nothing is coming to fruition and I haven’t had the urge to press my wrists against the keyboard and pour my soul into a page that I’m hoping you’ll accept.
Writing is weird, isn’t it? The summary of our entire being printed on dead trees and pressed in ink. Some of us like to pretend that we don’t do it for others, we do it for ourselves. While some of that is true, we still long to be accepted by other like-minded people. Am I pretty now? Am I disgusting enough for you to slather me with red wax and stamp me with the crest of your kingdom?
A barren mind is of common occurance more than writers would like to admit. As much as the cup can overfloweth with ideas and motivation, the ping-pong game continues. Someone has my ball and I’d like to get it back. Please?
I’ve been reading a lot of “You know you’re a writer when…” memes and (although silly) none of them talked about this side of writing. I fully think that if you question whether or not you are a writer, you probably are. Sounds wildly insecure and unproductive, but it’s that exact insecurity that makes us expose our vulnerability into the written word. It’s our only drug that heals us instead of crucifies. I’ve often had this question, even though, down into the deep-deep, I know I was born with a pen in my mouth, paint on my skin, and a strange fondness for blank paper (this last one is no joke).
The positive thing is that I’ve been able to catch up on a lot of sleep lately. As is the case with most insomniacs, it can have the opposite affect on your body. All you want to do is sleep. Right now, even after a 5 hour nap after work, I am debating on going back to bed. Penance must be paid for all of that borrowed time and my body always retrieves payment.