D tells me, “Why don’t you write? I like the way you used to
write.”
As if I am some kind of professional, I excused myself, by
telling her, I have writer’s block.
I have been reading, watching, listening and consuming
information. Most of this information is not useful for me. I am least bothered
about what I read. I am just mechanically consuming information. Reproducing
the same as posts on LinkedIn. And I have not been communicating as to what I
feel.
I sometimes feel, I don’t feel anymore. I just eat and vomit.
I am doubtful if I can ever write again. Whether I will ever
be in free flow. Have I lost it?
And what will I write about? This blog has been total chaos,
sometimes jotting down everything I feel and sometimes taking months to write
long posts. But even with all the atrocities I do, a few select set of people
used to read. I am kind of sure, I would have lost their readership now.
Who will I write for?
For myself? For D? For my friends? For any arbitrary reader?
I understand writing is good.
I understand, by writing I will get to know myself. Better.
I am beginning to understand.
Again.
