I noticed when I finally ventured back onto my blog i got caught up in relearning how to navigate it, instead of diving in and out after posting a picture, which was my intention. I saw that I had 4 ancient drafts just sitting there. I didn’t read them to see if they were compelling to me months later, I just noticed that they exist. I’ve also got at the least the same amount of illegible scribblings in a notebook I carry with me and a couple letters sitting on my mac’s desktop. There’s also the flashes I carry in my head that fire off at all hours of the day. I used to beat myself up for not writing, which I claim to hold as a passion of mine. Clearly a passion of mine I ignore.
I see now that it’s not that I don’t write, it’s just that I suffer from a paralyzing procrastination. I am like a dragster, taking off from the starting line, but the problem is I don’t get to the finish line. I ruminate and contemplate the words to an inch of their existence and then I just……stop. As if the impetus for the writing has passed and I am simply out of writing gas. One day I’ll gather up all these words and see what they amount to, but for the moment I just let them collect where I leave them and gather dust while I decide what to do anything with them if anything.