It has been years since I've written a creative script. Most of the stuff I've written since the last one were corporate stuff, with clear goals and elegant concepts. Well, if not elegant, then empirical.
I spent the past few hours trying to finish a story and I found myself a tad out of practice. I used to do massive amounts of writing till the wee hours of the morning but nowadays, I put the cap at 2am plus.
The reason is, LDL. Bad cholesterol. Most of our bad cholesterol or LDL - low-density lipids - are excreted by our own body, when we don't sleep at night. So yeah, I'm going to bed very soon. Also, nursing a half-flu the past few days have not been very kind to me.
Also, one of the greatest blocks facing any writer is the loss of faith in your story or skills. That suddenly you realise what a fraud you are, that none of the things you ever did were any good and you should just die before embarrassing yourself further.
I would like to say I have overcome that, but I won't since that would be a lie. I am always insecure about my work. The only discernible difference between me 12 years - nay, just a few years ago - and now is that I have isolated my writing insecurities with my approval-seeking.
I no longer care about what people think of my work, nor do I believe that what anyone thinks of my work has any relations to my self-worth. Because the truth is, I am worthless, and therefore beyond worth and therefore, priceless. Wank wank!
I mean, it's nice when people say, "You're a genius!" but even that is momentary. Fleeting. Ephemeral.
Everything will not last. All structures are unsafe, said a Sufi thingy or whatever the fuck.
Anyway, off to bed. REM sleep, motherfuckers!
