I hate writing.
I hate writing.
No, hear me out.
I loved writing.
It gave me a lot of joy writing because writing was a way I articulated my thoughts, communicated my feelings, and survived depression as a child.
But as an adult, I hate writing.
Writing is tedious, and I am always tired when I have to do it.
Some days ago, I went to get something done and was conversing with the person I was with, and since she is a writer, I brought up the writing topic, wondering if she still writes.
She said yes.
I asked if it was writing for herself, or work, and she said both.
“I envy you,” I said, in a sadness-laced voice. “I don’t enjoy writing anymore. I don’t even write anymore. Everything I write now is for work.”
All this while, I was speaking in whispers, till she said “I know right!!” and we got into a long conversation on how writing loses its flavour after a while.
I know why I am uninterested in writing, I have always had an inkling, but reading Austin Kleon’s trilogy reminded me exactly why.
I monetized my passion.
He advised in one of the books not to monetize your passion so you’d lose the fire.
I read it a bit too late, I had already lost interest in writing them.
I am not a very Creative person.
In fact, I am a very boring person.
I do not have any hands-on skills.
I don’t have any special skills.
All I had was writing.
And now that I do not have that, I do not know again.
I used to think it was because I was going through a lot, and suffering slight burnout, but now I am fully burnt out, and going through the worst there is, yet nothing.
I have tried and failed to recover.
I am throwing in the towel.
I hate writing, and I do not know what to do with myself anymore.
