One of these days

It’s one of these days. It’s 9 PM. I’m exhausted and ready to clock out, but I still have to write my post. I feel like I have been on a cross-country marathon à la Forrest Gump for the past 600 days. My mind keeps running for no apparent reason, or maybe it’s too foggy to remember it. 

I could quit anytime. I have nothing to prove, but there is a ghostly voice that keeps echoing inside me: “if not noooow, then wheeeeen?”

There are so many things to write about, and yet so little time to do them justice. If I skip a day, I miss an entire dimension of existence. I cannot bear the loss, because it would only result from my own sloth. I have to be grateful I can see another day: I write, therefore I celebrate the present.

There is only one thing to do when you don’t feel like writing: write. You shouldn’t think about it or try to do something else: empty your mind, sit down, and jot down some thoughts in your favorite notebook or text editor. 

Even if I published several posts about finding writing topics, there are days where I’m also incapable of applying any ideation technique. The only way forward is to document the problem you’re facing and address it with new solutions: leave your body for a moment and psychoanalyze ourselves. Act as if you were a stranger, and maybe it will give you a new perspective to talk about.

One idea calls for another, and you’ll have enough material for the day before you know it.