I haven’t felt the urge to write, maybe it’s because nothing’s happening, or maybe because too much is happening but none of it’s interesting. I don’t have ideas or original thoughts, I just read and learn.

I’ve so often written about myself, my past, my challenges…seriously I’m so bored of myself.  It’s just me, an uneventful life. Less emotional pain, more acceptance of finitude.

Oddly enough, taking the writing class last fall was the end of it, I did all the assignments and even enjoyed them, but haven’t written anything since, when before that I at least wrote sporadically.

Possibly because I already knew pretty much everything the class was supposed to be teaching me. So, it’s never been some secret writing information I lack…I finally committed, prioritized my writing and realized I just don’t have what it takes as far as determination/persistance/hard work goes. Got over the idea that “I just need to commit” and then it’ll happen.

Same thing happened with singing lessons. There’s no secrets, no inside information. It’s just hard, time consuming work and I don’t want it enough to make it happen. So maybe I’m just done, not intrinsically motivated or committed enough to writing to make time for disciplined practice. Time to let that dream go.