But in the past few months, I haven’t found the drive or the mojo to sit down and write anything. Every day I will sit in front of the computer, browser open and try to will myself to write something, anything. I type out words, sentences and even paragraphs that I find incoherent, messy and forced. I remember a time when the words used to flow naturally, like a river. Now my writing has become like a migrating salmon; swimming hard against the said river.

That entire paragraph above took me almost 30 minutes to compose. Also, may my analogies rest in peace.

This feeling is not something I would wish upon my enemies. Imagine the feeling of loss, wandering around aimlessly trying to find a spark. Imagine a troop of boy scouts, huddled together in the cold, dark woods, trying their best to light up the fire. And failing. There is no spark, there is no flame. There is only cold. There is only darkness.

Wow. That got really depressing, really quick. I don’t mean to do that on this blog, I really don’t. But as I grow up (oxymoronic I know, considering this blog is called Life of Budak), I seem to be inevitably pushing writing out of my life as I pursue other goals in life. My work, my relationships with friends and family, my girlfriend. It's something I'm not very proud of, and I know I should never find a way to make excuses for my own shortcomings,

I love writing, but I don’t know if I want to anymore.