A writer writes

I have lost my will of writing. I’m not one hundred percent sure why, but I’m pretty sure writing essay after essay, and a dissertation, has something to do with it. Just writing this post feels like I’m just forcing words onto the paper (or my phone in this case) with no real point to make. But I’m writing this in a weak attempt to keep some of my writing spirit alive.

I mean, I want to be a journalist. I want to write for a living, so why do I have no will to actually get ideas down on paper? Maybe I have too many ideas, constantly swirling around my brain like a metropolis of feelings and thoughts, which makes it hard to select one to write about. Yeah, that must be it. Because, there’s no way I don’t have enough ideas and thoughts in my head, with the way I overthink things.

I’m even overthinking why I don’t feel like writing anymore. Even though my gut tells me that it’s because I don’t feel like I have anything to write about at the moment. I’m getting sick of writing about my life, because, well, who really cares what I get up to from day to day enough to read my blog about it? The ones who really care will ask me personally, won’t they?

Anyway, here’s another pointless post. But I don’t have anything to write about right now. I think. But soon I will go on an adventure that will at least give me a lot of stuff to write about. No need to force ideas, as simply keeping a diary of what I do every day, will be enough.

Oh yeah, and by the way, on January 28th I go to Thailand for four weeks, and then I go straight to Lisbon, Portugal, to spend a month with my parents chilling in their new house. I can’t wait!

I feel like I just contradicted myself, writing a pretty long post about how I don’t have anything to write about. But my point is more that I don’t FEEL like writing anymore, rather than not being able to. Anyway, until next time.