It’s been a while since I’ve cared enough to write on here. I stopped posting for a mulititude of reasons: I didn’t think my writing was that good, I focused more on drawing for a little, I started writing in notebooks instead of on my computer, I felt a slight burnout from doing morning journal entries, I’ve been distracted, I’ve switched jobs, I’ve moved. Reason upon reason as to why I never sat down to just post something, anything. A few months back, I started to add some posts onto a website called Medium. I had watched a video on websites that pay writers for writing and Medium seemed the most enticing to me, and the idea of getting payed for what I already loved doing made me want to jump on the opportunity as quickly as I could, and so I neglected this blog as a result.

I didn’t even write anything new for the website, I just recycled articles I’ve already posted here, and after I went through all the articles that I deemed good enough to post to Medium, I gave up on that too. I didn’t even get payed well through it, either, gaining a whopping $0.20 across 10 articles. Through the process of uploading these old articles to Medium, however, I did get a chance to read some of my old writing and I was surprised to genuinely enjoy them. They were quick, to the point, but were still informative and could make you think. My writing style has always been a bit informal and personal, and I could feel how raw the writing was in my revisit. Reading them filled me with a bit of hope but also a sense of shame for giving up on them and not allowing myself to actually sink into my writing. I want fast results and quick escape. I want success now, without all the proper work. Who knows how much better at writing or how big this blog could have gotten by now if I had listened to my own advice and maintained.

That has been my mental dilemma for about a week now. All my given up passions and endeavors, and how much better I could’ve been right now if I had just stuck with them, hadn’t given up. Hadn’t given in. I look at my near filled sketchbook and think “what if?”. I see how I haven’t posted a real article on here since August, how I didn’t keep up with my goal of submitting a story to fiction contests every week, how I got lazy and stopped writing on Medium even though my stories were starting to gain a bit more traction, how I signed up for writing job boards since September and haven’t applied to a single one. I see myself and all the opportunities and time I waste and get genuinely angry and shameful that I even tell people that I write and want to be a writer. And what frustrates me the most is that while I’m writing, or drawing, or making music, or whatever it is, I cant stop myself from seeing how mediocre or boring or rushed it all is, but when I come back months later, with fresh eyes, I never agree with those sentiments. I realize how fun it is to read the stories. I’m surprised with the creativity of my writing, of my word choice, of the unexpected humor, and also of the world that I tap into. But it’s just not something I can manage to see in the moment.

I’m really working to change, and I’m glad I’ve had the experiences that I’ve had this year because it let me know a couple things about myself. For starters, if I actually keep at something with the mindset of just experiencing it and learning from it, I progress at levels I’d never thought possible for myself. I spent a month really focusing on drawing and came out the other side genuinely impressed with the artwork I could create. Secondly, I believe in my ability to create a little more. After taking huge breaks from creating, I never believed I could write as much as I did again, but I wrote more in a couple months than I have in years. Same goes with reading. As a former voracious reader, it frustrated me how little I now read and then did something about it. That ties in with the third thing I learned about myself. My life is not hopeless. Even if I’m not at the place I want to be at just yet, I have the ability to do something about it. I don’t have to sit back and let life do unto me what it wants. I can have an active role in my future and where I want it to take me. I’m no longer baseless, I’ve successfully created somewhat of a foundation, a foundation that I always have the opportunity of strengthening.

At this point, I’m just hoping that I could maintain this type of foresight with my life, rather than constantly having to look back and go, “Maybe I had something here, why did I ever give up?”. I don’t wish to live a life full of regrets. I don’t want a ton of what if’s to mark my life. I want answered questions and wisdom inducing experiences. I no longer want to look back and question if there was a better option or if I had given up on myself. From this day on, things will be different, and I don’t know if that means I’ll be posting more on here, or if I’ll get a new job, or if I’ll find new ways to express myself, but things will change. I swear that here and now.