This is literally a check in, I haven’t written in what feels like weeks. Bear with me if this doesn’t have a thread of logic.
July has undoubtedly been one of the most challenging months of 2017. I didn’t bleed out here about it, I just got on with it. Like an adult, frankly quite boring.
There was beauty in the struggle. There was something more to the hustle, something to be gained. Something was pulled out of the difficulty, in hopes of finding something more meaningful.
But I kept it to my damn self. And so what for it?
I feel like I’ve created the writers block.
I am just meant to write, and keep writing.
August has rolled in. Where is the change I so desperately seek? I’m stuck in a God damned rut and I don’t know how to leave.
I’m anticipating more struggle coming my way. Because why the hell not? But after the fires have been put out, all I ask for is the unknown, the unplanned and the new.
That’s what’s been pissing me off. After all of this, comes monotony, the beloved ninetofive and death of the joy of living. A stability waster, a sheep, SAD (Trump, 2016).
I’m going to be a bloody stability waster with constant writers blocks.
No, no, gotta create that kismat myself. Here’s to taking any random opportunity that comes my way. I will not be a stability waster.
And so begins the pursuit of change.