I can't remember when I stopped writing. If someone asks me what I want to do with my life, I tell them, I want to retire at 30 and become a writer. What about my book? Yes, I stopped writing. My characters. I can see what they see, feel what they feel, listen to every word they say but I can't write. I can't write about them. I can't write about you. I can't even write about me. I always said that only a poor writer needs to use what's happening in their life for inspiration. What about the writers who can't even do that? How could I stop...
What does one do when they run of inspiration? When they can't tell stories anymore? When they fail to create something out of nothing? I thought about giving up, it was tempting. A book once told me the world is full of written garbage, to not add to it. I'm doing it right now in the hope that somewhere I will see why once I thought I could write. If truth be told, I actually thought I was a good writer. I was stupid. Producing a few poems or some stories does not make one a good writer. Either you're born to write or you're not. Same with how one is born to act. Sure many people learn how to but they can never be as good at acting or half as good at writing.
As far as writing is concerned, I feel I have reached a dead end. It's a pity I cannot finish what I started. It was a good story and the fact that it really happened made it better. I've tried adding words. I cannot do it justice. I'll walk away now in the hope I might finish it one day when I'm feeling a less content person and a better writer. The irony is devastating.
