I don’t have much time. I have to get to work before 7:30 this morning and I’m on my boyfriend’s computer just trying to get something out there.
I haven’t written much of anything this week. After starting my writing class last week, I figured that I would be chomping at the bit to write, write, WRITE.
Alas, that is not the case. I think I’ve written one thin in my journal since last Wednesday. God, it feels just like not working out. LIke, when you workout a lot consistently and then take a break part of you is glad for the respite, but the other part of you feels a little more than a bit empty.
That is how I feel. No surprise there. I feel empty.
I wish I was one of those people who could spend hours and days on her craft. Just writing away all that fills my head.
The actor me feels the same way.
Do I have no passion?
Seriously, I wonder that sometimes. I feel like I do. Or, rather, like I once did. But, now I feel like my passion come in spurts. I am not one of those whole-week-long-passionate-creative-burst kind of people. Rather, I get little ones much more frequently.
LIke, now–when I feel like something needs to come out, but i don’t know what it is yet.
Perhaps that’s another thing. I wish my passionate bursts were directional.
But, that all said, I do love untamed passion…