I wish it was easy to write. I wish I had the motivation that others have to sit down at the end of each day and type until they feel content. The inspiration to make a world of make believe. It worries me, especially when I’ve worked so hard for something to eventually watch it burn.
Anyone keeping up to date with me knows that I go for months on end with no word. You’ll hear me say about my ideas to “write more for my blog!!!!!” but it’s obvious that after the first week – more than likely less, I’ll have already forgotten my vow. Who knows, maybe I would be a lot further into this whole blogging thing than I am at this current moment if I actually kept to my words?
But my life lacks anything remotely interesting. I work and I go to university. I spend time with my boyfriend. I play a bunch of video games and listen to super old music that people have most likely forgotten by now until Primark takes their logo and makes it into a cheap crop top brand. The Smiths, Ramones, Joy Division and Nirvana has been poached by a lot more than just high-street quick fix Primark… I’ve seen New Look and H&M wave the cross-eye’d smiley around the place.
Can someone really call themselves a writer if all they do is procrastinate the writing?
Post-Punk Press 