Wow, I have been incredibly uninspired lately. I am not rolling forward and growing as I roll downhill anymore. I feel I’m lacking the layers I used to fight myself peeling back and picking at. It seems that in the process of choking my mental state of persistent drowning, fighting, and fear of lying still in the water has only left me climbing out of the body of water in the end and staring down. I’m happy, I’m content, I’m ambitious, I’m doing things, I’m confident, I’m out of that treacherous, turbulent water, but I’ve lost all the valuable pieces of my mind that made me feel beautiful, in spite of sadness. I don’t seek out new music to listen to, new authors to ponder, hell, even new clothes to wear. I think I’ve gone stagnant inside myself. I understand that I’m sacrificing parts of myself in order to stay balanced, and I’ve always been made to feel hideous and repulsive in the act of an unbalanced attitude or emotion, but now I feel like the dullness of my fucking white eraser after my drawing class today: covered in charcoal, numbed to the core, and not even making any inspiring marks. It’s lost its purpose. I have no purpose, I never have, we never have, and if anything Camus has told me that is a good enough reason to keep going, and that is my very will. Though I lack spark. I’m not making any marks. I’m a used up match. I’m happy, I’m content, but I lack a sense of culture and inspiration within the last couple of months.
I think that’s okay. I’ve recognized it and with that, I’ll progress. It’s okay. A part of it comes from my unwillingness to love, I think. I’ll find a way, though. From today and on I will do something about it. I will stay healthy-headed while finding a way to be healthy-hearted. I will utilize my emotions again, but usefully and positively. I won’t let them drag me somewhere I don’t need to be. But I will let myself flourish in the heart again. I just need to remain balanced while doing so. This will be a first attempt for me. I look forward to it.