writer’s block

I have had a lot of thoughts, topics that I have wanted to write about that have been reduced to 140-character rants for the past couple of months. Every time I try to see myself starting up again at writing, I always end up doubting myself, doubting my ideas and opinions, doubting words in general, looking back at all those isolated incidents that they have failed me (or is it just my utter lack of skill in manipulating them to produce a coherent essay, I am entirely at a loss now, in those times I have failed them).
Again, I try. I try so hard to pick it up again, more than anything else that I think I am good at, anything else that I think I have any potential for. I don’t know. I guess I have this idea that writing down my own thoughts somehow gives me a different perspective to my own life, that writing is my very own psychological mirror, that it allows me to further dissect my own thoughts as it becomes detached from me, in the way that I put them ideas out there somewhere, usually on my blog or Facebook.
This is writer’s block. I think, I hope it is. Then if that’s true, I am still a writer.


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