It feels weird not to be regularly writing. Even when I have nothing to write. Nothing to write for. I could just stop, you know. But every time I try, it ends up feeling… off.

For a while I’ve found myself between wanting to write, having no idea what to write, yet feeling uncomfortable with not writing. I’ve also been grappling with the fact that I don’t need to it anymore. I used to write like I had a terminal disease. But now, that need isn’t as urgent.

I did learn, in the last 10 years that as much as I love writing, I hate doing it as a career. The second I have to write about a topic I know nothing about and have no interest in, just to get lectured about how I should be more knowledgeable and excited about the subject matter, it makes me die inside My writing was always about reflection and understanding the human condition. There was a time when I made a living through writing, but that times is over now and I was so happy to see it go.

This still leaves me craving the act of creation. But unsure of where to even start. Which is why I have set up half a million blogging websites and then taking them all down within a few months. None of them ever seemed to sate whatever it was I needed at the time. Which, is fine. Needs change and I need to change with them.

How long this blog will remain up, I have no idea. But I’m enjoying it so far.