So it's early February. I'm waiting for April, when the next big moment will have to be planned life-wise. I'm reading a lot, learning a lot, probably spending too much time alone and not putting into practice the things I'm learning - which creates the distinct possibility of forgetting them. I go out on the weekends with my friends and drink too much. I'm lucky nothing really bad has happened to me. I saw someone on TV say that they had worked as hard as possible, how it always pays off, etc. I envy the people that can honestly make that statement.
I am 22 years old and am not trying my best. I'm confused, seemingly unmotivated to follow through with my ideas (nice way of saying lazy), and just plain struggling with that fact. I can't seem to artificially impose sets of rules to get me producing more writing (nice way of saying I have no discipline). I try to make excuses for myself the way an outsider would: "You're only 22, you're young, don't worry."
It doesn't placate me at all.
I want to be a writer. But I'm scared because I haven't been able to write one good piece all the way through - that is - as hard as I can. Maybe what I think should be my hardest is just too optimistic and I have really already fulfilled my potential. I hope, optimistically again, that this isn't the case because if it is then I know, objectively, that I'm a pretty lame writer incapable of doing what I want my writing to do. The reason why I write, which is to evoke emotions in other people. Strike them with me and who I am. Use me as a tool to evoke emotion. Like Public Speaking - I know I can, I've done it before - when I really try (this is in the past), it works. But this was in school formats where I didn't want to embarrass myself. It's amazing how that avoidance of shame will drive you to your very best. Now I'm on my own, judging myself - and since I can always judge myself later - I put the decision off and never judge what a lame, non-job, I'm currently doing.
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