Metro Manila Community Quarantine - Day 299
Let's try not to talk about the case today. Besides, there haven't really been any big revelations just yet.
Whenever I talk about my crazy reading goals, Tobie likes to remind me that he's excited to see what kind of stories I'll end up writing. It's kind of amazing that Tobie believes in my ability to write perhaps more than I do, but it's just one of the reasons he's an amazing partner in life.
The world is full of stories and admittedly it's hard to figure out which ones I most relate to and which ones feel like they're truly mine. I read a LOT, obviously, and thus I am constantly immersed in stories. I juggle 3-4 books at a time. We watch multiple TV shows concurrently and we sneak in a few good movies here and there. Our lives are full of stories and all stories feel real when they are told.
I know I should just write. I have written so many blog posts where I keep telling myself this fact. I know that this is something I should do to get into the habit and find my voice or whatever. And yet I haven't really been able to stick with it every time I try. I get the odd story or short-form poem written down here and there, but then that's it.
I often feel like my writing lacks...conviction. I can string words together, but I feel like my writing lacks true purpose and drive. It feels like I don't have anything meaningful to write about - what do I really want to say? Even if it's just fiction, I feel like I need to be contributing something to the larger conversations out there. I want my writing to somehow have an impact beyond the words themselves.
Talk about wanting to run before learning to walk, eh?
Maybe I'm aiming too high. Maybe I'm just rationalizing my way out of even trying to write. Endless questions and musings and clearly not enough actual writing. Such is the writer's trap, as so many know far too well.