Retweet. Scroll. Retweet. Haha. Scroll. Click. Yawn. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll.
What to do? What to do? What to do? Brain feels like metal. Feeling sleepy. Two cups of tea does nothing. Cannot have more tea. Why am I sleepy? Slept for 15 hours, that is more than half a day. When will I write nice and descriptive pieces that manage to move people. Maybe sometime when my brain does not feel like a big block of ice. I need to stop being zoned out. I cut social media so that I stop scrolling, I have now focussed my entire energy on twitter, little less scrolling but the same addiction to my phone screen. Unhealthy amounts of youtubing (is it a verb yet?). Not enough brain enrichment activities. I feel so lonely and dumb, lonely because I do not know who to talk to and what to talk to and dumb because I do not know what to do to get out of this lull.
Been the same for days now. I try to get out but I do not have that much strength. What do people do in free time? How do they have a sense of purpose? Or are there completely uneventful days together for everyone? Is everyone as stupid as me over analysing every thought?
I hate being an editor sometimes, has taken every amount of original creativity from me. Can jazz up anyone’s piece, add unnecessary drama, pour in all kinds of emotions, tighten it, polish it and present it to you so in a manner so that you are compelled to lap up my words. But, where is my own writing prowess, no visuals, no imagination, nothing that will make you let out a laugh or stifle a sob or maybe just sigh because you think I put to words what you failed to say.
I feel that way about everyone else’s copies whatever I read that is. The words run so smoothly, you can taste them before you can read them. The knots in your mind ease because the words are slowly caressing the tense areas, you are surprised yet again at the magic of words because that is what you have been doing for as long as you can remember, from small story books to 1000 pages novels. And everytime your lips read the words and the images played in your mind, you waited, you waited for your time when your carefully constructed paragraphs would tantalise someone’s imagination, you would use alliteration everywhere because that is your favourite stylistic device, you want to write pretty proses about people and their pets but you are stuck in your head, your frozen, heavy weighing-you-down head. It makes you believe that you are the only thing important in this world and you and you and you and your problems and oh the world so unfair and all the worries of the world upon your weary shoulders so you take pity on yourself and write a 500 word piece about how you are the dumbest person on this earth because at this moment that is all you can do and then go back to Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll. Scroll…