Forcing an idea out of your brain is the exact opposite of creativity, I say. Writing this blog feels tiresome at times, like an obligation. An obligation to whom, don't ask me. Perhaps to myself, perhaps to my readers.
Is it cocky to say "my readers" as if I was "the" writer?
This blog was firstly published as a exhaust valve for my darkest feelings and thoughts. It has changed over time, as of course it should change along with me and my personal growth - if qrowth has happend...
Now writing here is something I sometimes try to remember to do. It's not an activity spontanius of nature but as said an obligation. Weird. I like to write but just feel as if I've got nothing meaningful to say. These ongoing - sober this time - ramblings about a lot of nothin' are not the kind of imprint I want to leave in the minds of people reading this.
Then again, perhaps the ramblings are who and what I am, flowing ideas, thoughts and bursts of emotions.
Life is sometimes so complex being so simple at the same time. It's in the balance of things, the essence of life, I'd say. Balance.
