28 May 2002
This page is no longer being maintained. Please read this entry for more information.
The worst writer's block - 9:44 p.m.
The beginning of summer begins the worst bout of writer's block that I have during the year. I don't know what it is about summer, but somehow I don't feel motivated to do much of anything except lay around the house all day and be lazy. I talked to Robert about it today, and he said that I do feel motivated. He kept saying that, probably as an attempt to actually motivate me. We were talking about what we had in common (after an earlier conversation that each of us had with DeAnna separately during various times of the day), and we got to "like to read" and "like to write".
"Well, I do," Robert said. "You don't really anymore."
"I just don't feel motivated anymore," I said. And then he told me that I DO feel motivated and all. *sigh*
But the truth is, I just have so much to write down about what happened since school let out (I'm still only on Friday in Dr. Nbook, and I still have the weekend), but I don't know where to start. I just don't feel like it's fresh anymore. In drama we talked about the "illusion of the first time", and how the presentation should remain fresh. I think writing should be the same way. But somehow my writing just doesn't feel fresh anymore. I don't know why. I want to write something fresh, but I don't know where to start. Ideas, anybody?
I've tried pulling ideas from the past, but even that doesn't seem to work anymore. It's the same-old same-old, and it gets really annoying after a while.
Somehow I feel that my depression is the cause of the entire "writer's block" thing. I thought I was happy, but somehow I'm having such mood swings lately that I don't know what I am. Happy? Sad? Lonely? I want to say that I'm lonely, but I've had more of a social life than I've had in a long time. Or maybe I'm lonely for the happiness in me that seems to have deserted me for the longest time. There was something I wrote almost a year ago today about being depressed. I read it aloud to Robert today on the phone (and speaking of which, I'm talking to him online, but he's not talking to me...), and I realized that I don't feel the initial passion I've felt for writing over the past four years of writing in Dr. Nbook. I don't feel like doing anything, not even write.
It's amazing how I can hide my depression for a while, but it eventually gets found out. I wish I could just lie and say that I am perfectly happy and all, but then I would feel guilty. Okay, so people I don't know personally read this, and I think about how many people become completely different people online. But people I do know read this, too, and some can see the resemblance between my writing and my real nature. Never tell anything, as Laura's mother lived in Yesterday's Child. I wonder if I have done the same thing?
Scary.