I’ve been feeling more and more lost recently than ever before. The direction in life seems clear but as I sit and type. Study, outline and write countless essays – the more robotic I feel. Riding is about improving. Team is about people and work. It’s about everything and everyone else.
Time passes and it feels absolute. As if I’m going in circles, thankfully not a spiral. There is no creative. No art, nothing different, nothing new. The same routine. Wake up, class, cook, study, team. It’s boring. Routine. I don’t know what compels me to keep going on this pace but somehow I am. And the semester is halfway over (already!)
I’m supposed to be writing an essay right now. Actually, a term paper on theories. Something inside of me stopped writing. Any other day I wouldn’t have any problem, I’d lay it out in an outline form and type in the content where it should belong. The words flowing from the tips of my fingertips but hardly my mind.
I am not here to be robotic.
Every bit of me aches for creativity, some kind of outlet. I have my camera, pens, paper, my laptop, so many beautiful places and subjects – all of the tools I could possibly need – but I have no inspiration. Only a method of practice and work. It leaves a glum sort of boring order and consistency that is both manageable, and frustratingly easy to slip into. Like making sure a door is closed when you leave the room. A sort of habit that’s hard to break.
If there must be a silver lining, my grades are looking extremely good.
I mean, something must be working – I got over a hundred percent on a psychology midterm and one of the highest grades in the class on my comms midterm (I also thought I did poorly whilst taking those tests so it was a nice surprise..) Alas, also, Thanksgiving is coming quickly and I will have time off to be creative.
Perhaps I’ll just have to settle for waiting.
Creativity will come.
On a very strange side note – the doodles in my notebook seem to object with this post entirely; they’re growing more elaborate and vibrant every day.