It’s been a minute. For the past couple of weeks, I
lied to told myself that I didn’t have anything to write about because I was stuck at home, due to the apocalyptic situation of the world right now. Seeing as I was unable to go out, I couldn’t really experience the world and get inspired to write. Poor child.
Somewhere in the midst of my lies and self-pity, the gods of creativity stretched out their hands to me, and I took it. As much as I would like to wallow in laziness, despair and pandemicity, the truth is at heart I am still an artist, and not creating does more harm to me than good.
I am choosing to embrace my present reality and feel every bit of magic in it, to pay a little attention.
So, what now?
Now, I am starting a 30-day writing challenge. If you’ve been with me for a while, you’re probably laughing hysterically right now, as you know I suffer from a rare and severe form of procrastination. The thought of me writing consistently for thirty days seems ludicrous to me as well. But one must try, always.
I am both scared and excited to see how the coming days will go. I hope I go through with this, as if I don’t I will have no choice but to run away in shame and start a new life in Indonesia. Please do not look for me. Allow me to live a quiet life with whatever shred of dignity I have left.
I hope you are still hanging on to the light and holding on to your anchors.
Thank you for staying with me. See you tomorrow.