These days I have had nothing to write about. Nothing that has sparked my interest or even motivated me to tease the keys of my laptop. I have been empty. Empty of thoughts, interest, care, and even creativity. I wanted to call it the writer’s block, but I think it is just a life block. It’s a place I’ve been before, but I typically avoid this state of being and find a new motivation to awake me, but I seriously want to write, but now have no clue what to write about. Recently these days have been reminiscent of the days of last year; where all I remember was the stress and the annoyance of just waking would bring. God now you know I am thankful for each and every day, but some of the encounters I have with man beings make even the gift of waking something you want to return to sender. There is a better way to express that, but you get what I mean. It’s like the energy of others slowly tarnish the most positive of vibes. It has all made my need to write come to a halt.
I know you are fussing me out and hoping I don’t end the blog this way, but oh no I’m not giving up that easy. They won’t cause me to end this race. I just have to find a way to sync everything together so that my home life matches my work life and my work life matches my social life. A loaded sentence that even makes me exhausted reading it. The energy it takes to be a different me around selected beings is difficult. Unbalanced with emotions and never knowing what to be around those who have no clue should be a crime to me. I mean honestly who gives a damn how others feel about the who and what I am. Why does their vibe cause my versus and flow to stop? I have to type something before I confess that I forgot. I believe I know why my interest has been low and behavior unjust; I have hit that unhappy place again and that attitude has to go.
I understand that every road isn’t going to be straight and narrow; and everyday not cupcakes and sprinkles. Why must we continue on in something that brings more hatred than love. A plan has to be made! I must run like hell before the doors of this place trap me and I never see the light of day. Why should I bear and smile and I really want to punch and blacken an eye? Violent! That’s never been me, but it tarnishes my reason to create; I am only left to be mean. Nasty is what they would label me and petty is what I shall always be, but who gives a (!@#$) what they think of me. I have dwelled in this place of lame work and unfulfilled promises of hope. A place where greatness is a joke and dressing up as clowns is just a part of the days’ work. Yes we wear the mask and the sad part is the secret has been exposed.
I know I am all over the place in this open letter, but I just wanted to let you know that I take writing as no joke. My thoughts may be unclear, but soon my words will be free again; taking one day at a time and taking this journey again. Using one environment to create my future, while praying that God keeps me peaceful so that useful. I’m sort of mad at the world and how it has twisted my understanding. Knowing what to write without being defensive is a hard task for the creator within me.
I would express my true feelings about professionalism, my deepest secrets, my low tolerance for bull and lies, my desire to hide from the naysayers and liars, my me to me conversations about those who hate me, and those same conversations about who I am to me. There is so much more to mOOdee you’ll see, but if I write how I feel you might hate me. Art is to be judged, so what make me any different. It just sucks that the judgement as halted my writing creations.
The block of artist who only wants to be freed from the chains of my own thoughts.
SayWhatNOW?!?! 