Honestly tell me, please. What is it about 12 midnight or 3 AM early mornings that aspire creative writing out of me? I woke up at 3 AM yesterday, slept in the afternoon, and wide awake right now at the said time 12 MN, and feeling like writing. I am probably just writing words and words, describing my current thoughts. I’m quite good at that, journaling whatever stuff I have done for the day or the week or the past month. Letting my words flow out of me and pretending yes I am creative.
I was just watching this book made to a series on Netflix, and there’s a lot of psychoanalyzing happening over there. Piques my interest so much. This is the generation I am a part of. Sometimes I embrace it, sometimes I abhor it. But nevertheless, I am more grateful than discontent. I’m thinking of a modern plumbing system and clean water. I guess genuine hygiene is more important to me than high distinctive intellect. ha!
Thinking about creative writing now, I really just want to actually finish writing a book, not just major plot lines. Not having time is not an excuse at the moment, since classes haven’t started yet. Here’s to me trying to do that this week and hopefully finish even a chapter or two.
Get back to me in a week or two, will ya?
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