Not (Trying)
At this point in life, I have more drafts than completed works. I haven't been able to write anything for quite some time, and it should have broken my heart to be that way. Right now, all I'm feeling is indifference. I want to start writing again, but every time I'm faced with a blank screen, it mirrors a blank mind of my own. It was frustrating at first, but at some point, those frustrations just faded away, and instead became something of a norm (it shouldn't be.) And somehow, I've gotten used to not writing at all. I'm not happy with how I am living these days. In fact, I haven't been happy for the past few years. My job has been both a blessing and a curse to me over the past few years. I live a comfortable life with it, but the comfort becomes a new haven that I refuse to step out of. I want to try something new and perhaps find a new future to look forward to, but taking a step towards that feels scary. I couldn't help but think of all the thing...
