To be a writer – I wonder if I even qualify as one, since the last real thing I wrote was a short fiction piece for my creative writing workshop 2 semesters ago. (I graduated last May..)
I’ve been having blogger’s block – is that what they call it? Just a resistance to writing posts, writing in general, or basically anything I feel is productive. Other things I’m putting off:
Following up with job apps
Cleaning my room
Staying in touch with friends
Playing music/writing music
I don’t know what it is that makes doing these tasks so hard. And then everything else becomes an obstacle, then it’s like I have to make a choice to either stand in front of it or jump over it and move on to the next one somehow. Eating, bathing myself, brushing my teeth, stepping outside of the house, saying goodnight, opening those unread e-mails.
I keep reminding myself that I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die. I’m supposed to be done with that and not want to think about that again. Besides, I’ve seen the awesome possibilities that living can give and all I’d have to look forward to in death is just death.
I’m eating githeri (maize and beans) as I write this, something I throw in my mouth whenever the thought of satisfying my hunger seems like an assignment. And it’s not just the obligation of having to fill my stomach every now and then. I’m bothered by the fact that I don’t appreciate life. The fact that I even have the audacity to complain about hunger like it’s such a drag when I know people in this country are starving because of this drought we’re in. I mean, is it that I take life for granted? My life for granted? I don’t think it’s that easy to answer. I mean, the answer is clearly yes – but it’s like, there are still struggles I face that don’t make this easy-looking life so easy. And I just don’t understand it. Jesus raised from the dead, and it was such a big deal that he was ALIVE and no longer dead. Like, he was given that chance to live again, and so much joy came from that. And here I am, not even remotely happy about my life. I haven’t done a whole lot that’s excited me. I’ve done a lot that’s pleased others. But I want to live my life. How do I start? Especially when I have absolutely no energy in me to go forth and just do it.
I want to be excited about living. I want to celebrate so many moments just because I get to live them. I want to just feel fulfilled and that I’m making use of what I’ve been given. I want to feel like the choice to live is so much better than death.