I honestly didn't have enough feels or motivation to write this because I'm already expecting myself to flop and get my thoughts pasted here but all over the place.
For those who didn't know, I have been on the longest streak of Writer's Block Hiatus... From time to time I come back here to maybe finish a chapter or two, to create something new again.
To find the spark that I once had in this particular hobby of mine: Writing.
You see, writing and reading is one of the first things I loved besides singing.
I loved exploring things
I liked surprising myself with new facts
I loved learning.
I loved writing.
and now it's now all just a fading memory.
.
Why am I writing this, you may ask?
I wrote this because it felt like it's the right thing to do.
It just feels right to write a formal letter of temporary profile closing.
Honestly, I have decided to stop writing ages ago... probably 4 years now?
It's not that "I don't have anything to push me through this shit of a predicament" anymore but it's more of I don't feel the same whenever I start typing.
I can't explain it properly but when I was writing anything, It felt blissful. I was happy every time I write because I get to share something, even though it's mostly tragic parts of my life.
Look, I've been cheated at, taken for granted, bullied, heartbroken. I even experience this something that I don't know what the term is in English but every time I join any contest, I lose... even though I should've clearly won....
In my dialect we call it niluto.
I have experienced all sorts of negativity and torture.
And every time, I try to write something regarding those things to get it out of my chest.
Let's just say that writing became my coping mechanism to all the pain because I can't share these things even with my parents.
And heck, I can't even go out to just sit in a café and talk about my feelings because I can't go outside. I'm locked in a cage my parents created for me.
I feel like I'm a fucking display to their visitors.
For fucks sake.
But now whenever I revisit all the unfinished chapters waiting to be completed and out in the public, I can't seem to proceed.
I can't find the right feeling.
The right words
The will...
To write more.To be honest I am incredibly surprised at myself because I have reached this far speaking in straight English with all these complaints written in here about my writing hiatus.
Oh well, might as well jinx myself before anyone does, right?
Look, I have been trying to come back to this. I've been reading all those books to get me interested, to get me inspired.
I even bought a hard bound copy of Rick Riordan's Blood of Olympus to get me "pumped up" but my brain says no.
So yeah, since this has been in the drafts for I could say, 2 years I think it's time for me to stop adding more to this and just let you all see.
- Arin
YOU ARE READING
Question Mark (?)
RandomI'm your trusty companion in a ride where you can take a sneak peek at what's inside my garbage brain. Yay? To be honest, I just made this for compensation and all that bs--