At the moment writing has no appeal to me. Words disgust me, ideas do the same. But at the same time, I have an urge to write. Don’t know, maybe I’m just fed up with my way of writing. Maybe something new is wishing to born?
What could that be?
I’ve never been into therapy writing. I don’t like to delve in my so called deepest thoughts and put them into words. I’ve found that very boring.
My writing has always had a function, I’ve written for some reason –articles to smallish papers, novels to magazines, stories to my blogs. I’ve never been the one writing only to myself.
I’m used to that my texts are being read and although I have not the possible public in my mind while writing, the knowledge that my stories will be read, makes my writing somewhat satisfactory. A writer wants to be read, wants to be acknowledged and wants to be seen. If someone tries to deny that, I just won’t believe.
Now I have the feeling that being seen is not enough. Or then it is too much. I don’t know and that puzzles me. Should I start to write a diary, only to myself (I think Reiska would vote for that, hah) or should I have a brake from writing into my blogs(now I can hear Reiska cheering…)?
Or should I try to write something different?
My thoughts bore me. Like words.