I don’t know exactly what is happening to me in the past few days. I feel a bit rusty and uncomfortable about things in my life. I hate this feeling. I’m not sure if I can still continue on what I have started. I‘ve been a dreamer ever since; a man full of aspiration in life…very optimistic and a positive thinker. But now, things are changing; it’s getting out of my control. Is there a way I can somehow ease my burden? The problem is I don’t even know where to start. My passion in writing is eating me whole now. I just lost it…my touch…my feeling…my life…my everything.
All the things that I’ve always wanted to write are now slowly slipping off my hands. My thoughts are becoming vague and I can’t think straight. I’m having a hard time gathering my thoughts. My sentences are running out of words…I’m running out of breath. I’m bluntly staring in front of my laptop writing things I don’t know how to finish. I’ve been hanging…I’ve been dead for half an hour now. I can’t think, I can’t compose a single line.
What is this all about? I’m I in the brink of losing my gift? My gift of writing that has given me my identity and my being? I hope not…because if that happens…I’d probably be finishing this piece. I don’t want to end my legacy this way. This is not the way I want it to end.
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