I hate that I have hit a writer’s block the last year or so…but then again, I have nothing to write about. I have to admit that I miss writing, and that it is a talent that I should never let go of. At the same time, I feel as though I have said everything that my mind has had to say. I feel that there is nothing else left for me to say; all that I have written about recently has been grievance after grievance. Surely, that’s not something that people would even enjoy reading about. No matter how exquisite the writing passages may be, nobody truly wants to read about someone else’s problems or rantings about life and the world unless they are looking to relate to someone who is also struggling.

The way I can somehow see it is that perhaps my writing is helping other lost souls out there understand and see that they are not alone; that their struggles, although unique in situation, may be relatable to others. My writings are not meant to depress or annoy; they are simple meant to shed light on the sufferings that I go through. Every human suffers; everyone has a burden on their back. We take our lives for granted and probably don’t realize this. We have to remember that someone always has it worse.

I really want to get back to writing, but the problem is that I am not sure what to write about. I have been so frustrated this past year because writing is something that I love deeply…but I feel that it is something that is dying inside of me. The thought of that kills me. I would never forgive myself if I let this go to waste; it is one of the last beautiful qualities that I possess. So what can I do? What can I write about other than my rantings and bitching about the world, its current system, and society’s cruelties? People are going to get tired of that. Nobody wants to read negativity all of the time. So again, I ask myself, what can I write about?

At the present time I am attempting to recover after a birthday and post birthday breakdown that I had. I just turned 26, you see. And the weeks leading up to my birthday, I felt that there was something boiling up inside of me. When the day arrived, this emotion reached the boiling point and I broke down in front of my family. I realized during that moment, that everything is temporary. We are so used to our lives, that we don’t realize that we only have a certain amount of time before it all comes to an end. The people we love, the things we enjoy, the places we go to…it will all come to an end somehow. That night I realized that, one day, my family would not be there for me anymore because of the nature of life. One day, if I don’t die sooner, I am going to be all alone. I don’t want to have any children, and it’s not like I could anyway. That night, I realized that my sexuality was a burden on my desire not to be lonely. I am not going to get into a rant about that particular way of life that most men of the persuasion chose to live. However, I will say that it is the complete opposite of what my family dynamic has been for generations. There is nothing wrong with the natural; I am not whipping myself in the back and tormenting my mind because of the way I was born. What I am trying to convey here is that it is something that I am struggling with because of the loneliness that it brings. Some say that it does not have to be this way, and they may be right. But for me, specifically, as I have mentioned, this loneliness, to a certain extent, is by choice. Even if I were to find a stable partner, I would still choose not to have children. A close friend of mine said to me that all I had to do was surround myself with good, stable friends. This may be so, but towards the end of my days, if I were to reach a natural stage, I would have no close or immediate family that would take care of me. I would be a typical, forgotten soul in a retirement home. I choose death before it gets to that point.
This is the realization that lead down to the path of thoughts that I have described. We are too preoccupied with our youth; indulging in pleasures to maximize our experience of life before we become undesirable and age disables us.
For me, my family has been my foundation since the day I was born; I cannot imagine a life without them. This realization was not the only catalyst that set me into a depression; I feel that I have been concentrating my energies into the wrong people for a few months now. I realized that I should be investing my energies in my close friends and my family, rather than wasting my efforts in trying to meet or establish anything significant with other men in a sex application on my phone. I can say, at least, that I dove into this well of soul poison out of desperation and loneliness. My yearning to connect with someone decent got the best of me. I do not blame myself for this, as it is a natural human desire. I do, however, blame myself for taking things too seriously. Using this application is like trying to find a decent connection in a bath house. I must say, truly, that there have been some decent men I have talked to. At this time, however, I have not made any true, meaningful connections with any of them that have withstood the test of time. My mind is too insatiable; I am constantly seeking mental stimulation because my mind never stops running. I am constantly thinking, constantly analyzing…and I have changed over the past couple of months to the point where I can no longer explain my emotions. I cannot identify why I act the way I do; I have given up in trying to understand the unsolvable mystery that is my mind.
Another reason that I broke down was because I am 26 and I feel that I have very little to show for it. I am absolutely no idea what I am doing with my life. They say that your 30’s are the new 20’s. This is something that I cannot verify or relate to; as I have not reached that stage just yet. I do worry about what is going to happen, because the truth is that I do not know what is going to happen…but does anyone ever truly know? My plan now is to continue to save and attempt to apply to jobs out of state next year. This is a move that I am struggling with, but I know that it is something that I have to do. I simply cannot stay here anymore. Fear paralyzes us from the life that we have settled into; but there comes a time in everyone’s life where they must make a decision. It brings solace to my tumultuous mind that I am not the only 20-something-year-old that is struggling. This seems to be a new norm among today’s generation. Things have changed; things are different and nothing is the same as it was generations ago. I do have to be proud of myself for constantly trying to improve my life. I am not where I want to be, but I have to be thankful that I am at least trying my best to improve the situation. I could have given up, easily, years ago. But I kept on fighting. I kept on trying my best to do what I had to do to survive and to pull myself out from under. This is something that I will continue to do. Let it not be said that I did not try. Let it not be said that I did not put in effort to improve my life.
So there it is it; there is my grievance for the day…or should I say, for the past two months or so. Every day that I wake up, I feel a sense of lameness. I still can’t believe that I am living in the same place, in the same house, in the same room, after many years. I am not getting any younger. I am going to have less tomorrows and more yesterdays. So what can I do? What can I do to keep my mind from destroying me? I hope someone can relate to this.

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