I’ve been trying to come up with something to write for the last weeks. I’ve been deleting paragraphs after paragraphs of pure bullshit. I was so frustrated. I always worry that I’d just continue blabbering about things that don’t make sense. I even thought that this is me outgrowing something I thought I’d love doing forever; I even tattooed my arm something symbolic about my love for writing. I thought I’d never run out of anything to say. It disheartens me because I know there so much in this world to talk about and there’s a lot of stories worth telling.
The thing about this certain block is that it never goes away. It always walks behind your back eating apples like a Death God that it is. He’s just waiting to jam on you when you leave yourself off guard and take all the words inside your head away. It’s not something you can just brush off, you’ll just have to wait until it gets bored and go back in eating apples. Until then, you are its prisoner, its personal piggy back ride.
I can be so frustrated so many times and I’ll be the saddest entity you’ll ever know, but I never give up. They say “Only dead fishes follow the stream.”, and I believe that more than anything else. Since when did I care about my content? Since when did I make sense?
I am still here in 2017, 2nd of April. I still write from time to time, but I know I will never give up. Hop on, Ryuk.