Sunday, March 20, 2011

38: a Taste of Drifting Away

I found myself staring at my journal for almost a minute or two. I know I would be writing something about how my day went. Though there are a lot of things that has happened, I realized that I found myself not being able to write a single word.

Well I did, write a few words but in the end, those words turned into a scratch.

A scratch.

Scratch.

Scratch.

If I remember it clearly one of my professors in writing told me that there are those people that when they start working, they drift off to their passions and become a slave of their work. Their life revolves around eating, working, having fun with friends, and sleeping. He had noticed this when his daughter who had a passion for writing had started working.

I remember that when I realized that I no longer don't know what to write about. Why suddenly writing becomes a responsibility that I need to fill rather than a hobby. I looked back at my past entries only to realize that my writings were mostly .... nonsensical and non-reflective.

They say that when people lived the real life, they had little time for sentimental things. They drift away towards ... the world of apoplexy.

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