Long days of nothingness- I seem to have lost my mojo. In a long time, since I have chiseled away at the trusty Word Processor as a professional content developer, the sapient tool is turning me crazy. Am I burning out?
I have always believed that creativity is a relative thing- highly dependent on the conditions of our existence. It beats me, I’am at the peak of my physical powers and mental abilities- the writer in me breathes and laughs as he has always done. Why then am I not able to rise beyond that very imaginary picket fence? Common, I have faced bigger things.
Yesterday night, I spend about two hours looking into the immense emptiness outside as visible from my portico. The night was chilly and there wasn't a star in the sky- a perfectly gloomy, fit to be slept in and forgotten kinda night. Yet, I was wondering if I was spending a major chunk of my time procrastinating and not getting there! My laptop lay on standby and in the distinct warmth and cosiness of the room, it seemed a labored intruder.
There? Where is ‘there’? The Promised Land? A frame of time, place and elements that shall define my success? - What am I running after? Questions in all shapes and implications seem to be my constant allies. In their continued presence, I search for the very purpose of my next step, that proverbial spark- the signal of energy and vitality. I can feel it brimming- yet, I fail to embrace it.
And I’am struggling still…