I find myself in this position once more - trying to get the writing feeling back again. It amuses me on how much I can will myself to do things as compared to waiting for my muse to do its magic on me which I was very much used to when I was young. Perhaps, having this job and having an undeniably apparent super ego have allowed me to force myself to do things even when I'm no longer up to it. Thus, it killed the artist in me.
I started out with plainly writing what's on my mind and expressing without any conformity to a norm. I don't write with some guidelines in need of observation. I just go and allow my hand to scribble or my fingers to key in some words. It used to be so natural and so easy. No grammar checks, no deepening of words. It's just plain stream of consciousness roaring out of my mind - liberated and unconstrained. Now, it's a totally different story. I no longer write to express even if that was my battle cry. I stuck too much to the status quo that I've hidden who I am and how I am. I completely kept away my roots and my heart. I hoped to allow it to break free with a blog like this. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to make time for myself once more and allow myself some time to vent. But hopefully, I can start over again. A new layout, new content. More meaningful posts and just plain me as me and not me as an editor, writer or whatever.