i always have thoughts of wanting to stop writing, days pass by that i am desperate i’ll wake up one morning and i no longer crave the longing to write. it’s the only outlet i have, the thing that keeps me sane, and it is not something i do to gain people’s favor and validation (but of course it fills the heart, really, to be appreciated) but something i do to make me happy. it is something i know that is really pure and what makes me feel myself.
idk, it’s hard not to express it, that i hate being told i am copying anyone, it crashed my confidence and made me ponder, am i copying someone? i let it get into me. but, i hope that person knows that i am my own writer. i write the way i know. i write with my heart. accusing me of such is digging my grave of identity. and i hope that if you read this, you ruined it for me and i have to let people know that.
i wish i can write again in peace. i never want a crowd but i want genuine connection with people who appreciate words and see the worlds i live in.
venting out is so hard but this is me releasing some negativity inside me so i can fill myself with pureness again, so i can write with a heart that no longer holds doubtful drumming.