It’s been a long couple of weeks. I ran a half-marathon. My foot still hurts from that amazing experience. In the following week, I’ve eaten like trash and hung out with friends. It’s been good. Busy. But good.
Lately, I’ve been back on Twitter to read through the election year rhetoric. It’s been fascinating. It seems I always need some endless feed to scroll through. And it has to be something that makes me feel funny. So, if this means quitting Facebook for Twitter, then I like that arrangement.
I want to Tweet. Maybe sprinkle in a personal opinion here and there. I’m afraid. But I’m not so afraid to write anymore. For a while, if it was writing outside of work, then I couldn’t type out anything worth it.
It seems, that the longer the gap between writing, the harder it is. It got hard again. I hadn’t written much in the past couple of weeks. Yesterday, I broke the dry spell while reading the manuscript I’ve been working on. Self-doubt reared its ugliness into my mind. But I pressed on.
I just need to keep the gaps between writing and not writing very brief.
And so, I’ll keep writing. I have to. Maybe writing on some days will mean just writing a couple of Tweets. Or it will mean writing in my journal. Or it will mean actual writing. I like the idea that writing can be a lot of different things.
Sometimes it feels weird to share things on a blog-like platform in 2020. But then, I remember, that it feels weirder to be self-depreciating. It’s pointless.
Let me end this by sharing a couple ideas I’d like to follow through with some writing in the coming weeks:
- An essay about something related to video games
- More of my manuscript
- Another short story
- More blogs
- More Tweets
- More opinions