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 things that I would lose from it, but felt tortured by what could have been.

Hence, here I am. Writing in this old blog of mine, which today is dated over half of my age. As I look back at the writing I have accumulated throughout those years, I often wonder what it was that was driving me to write that much. Because today, I can't seem to remember.

I journal from time to time in my notes apps, but that has also been decreasing in numbers. I miss weaving stories & thoughts in the form of tangled alphabets, but I could barely form a coherent thought without breaking down. 

It has been rough, and I'm just here to let everything out. Usually these days, I would click save draft and have this kind of writing be kept away forever from the world. But I figured I'd try something new today.

In hopes that something would change.