DEEP CONVICTIONS

Questionable

How did it happen so slowly?
You know.
One minute I was checking in everyday and all the sudden, I dropped it all.
I let it all pass.
I used to complete every chapter.
I used to intently write out each paragraph with such conviction. Passionately poring myself out as I text with opposing thumbs hours after everyone went to bed. I couldn't wait to punch in these letters in hopes to reach you.
In hopes to mentally touch you. Emotionally connect with you.
Now days pass. Even weeks.
The interaction has passed as well. When I did write, there wasn't any interaction.
I remember a time when I was in effected to such things but eventually there was a momentum that came with writing.
I was trying to just get a comment from you. A smiley face or a thumbs up emoticon would have been great. And although I never achieved it, I reached many others.
People I never would have met anywhere else. People I would never had any connection with at all.
And then it happened.
When I thought all that was said could be said, it fell into the depression, the grieving of a lost habit.
But trying to come back, was difficult for me.
The comeback was impossibly achievable. I would check in and and see that nobody read what I wrote.
That's why I was here to begin with.
I realized then, that the power was in the amount of reads I received for the effort of opposing thumbs.
It's what kept me going. It's what became the power of my noteworthy feelings. That connection.
You know the one.
You know what I'm talking about here.
The reader. The very reason I'm writing shit here. It's for you.
How did I get here?
How did I get it twisted in my head that you gave a rats ass what I was going to write down everyday when in the first place I didn't care to reach anyone but you.
You know who you are.
I love the idea of you reacting to these words. Interacting with you in a venue, a stage where you introduced yourself to me.
I am not sour by any means. Really I swear it.
I just don't know how to get back to where I was from where I left off. The promise to write everyday.
To read everyday.
The everyday hustle has a momentum of its own. I lost the importance of channeling this outlet, utilizing its existence.
I miss writing myself in this book.
I miss it very much. I do.
And yet I struggle with it keeping my attention. Struggling with it keeping my intention. Struggling with it all really.
It just isn't what it used to be.
I have read other writers talk of it. They say WATTPAD changed. They say a whole lot about WATTPAD writers, and their readers. WATTPAD fame. WATTPAD money. Wattpad stress about whatever, wether it being it not working or whatever.
I don't want to ramble WATTPAD.
It is a place for me to jot down pieces of yourself. A place to put your energy. A place for me to truly find me. To find myself. To lose myself in me. And I'm afraid that possibly, I lost myself in it.
I do not think WATTPAD has changed. I am sure that I did.
It seems as though I have. I'm sure that you have as well.
So here I am. Full spectrum.
I have been the a lover of this forum. To being over it. And now passionately back to grieving a lost habit. To trying to grab at it like sand passing through my fingers. Wondering if there are anymore deep convictions left for me to write about.
I remember reading my first book here by Mark Snow. Then reading some "how to WATTPAD " book to "learn to WATTPAD" I'm even reading a book called chasing WATTPAD and now I'm writing about WATTPAD as well.
I found many writers I adored reading. I found other readers that admired me some. To now writing to nobody again. JAJAJAJA
No offense to you if you write about the PADD. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just saying.
I really don't think much has changed here. I still get notifications that you've written here. I still get updates. I am aware the app has been updated and that bugs were fixed.
I just think I didn't. I didn't get the upgrade. Myself. Me.
I have lost the passion for what used to be so awesome to me and that somehow trying to find it again is like an astronaut looking at the stars from earth.
Maybe you know. Maybe you don't.
Not sure how deep you find it.