In January I was able to write one last post. After that moment I was spent. Work, sleep, eat and focus on what is next everyday since. It is strange for me to explain. In short: when thinking becomes a luxury sitting down to write becomes difficult. So time passed and I was not able to work on ideas.
Now though I finally feel I can write again. To have some peace of mind I need to read. Short stories became longer stories. Longer stories became short novels and life slowed down when I read. Often I did not and still do not have the energy to follow the news and prefer to read a book. More books to enjoy, that is certain.
I always strikes me as odd when people do not appreciate reading. It forces you to focus, wrap your mind around the text and find out what it is about. Being able to focus helps you to manage your attention and energy. Thoughts become more cohesive and you can deeply process more things you encounter.
Recently I read Simon Carmiggelt’s short stories and Haruki Murakami’s “Wind/Pinball.” A new book already found a place in my bag. My list of books to read is so eclectic that I have given up on orderly lists. For some reason I keep returning to Murakami’s stories though. The way some writers tell their stories keeps you curious.
Work increased, more hours but I can live with that. Even if work is tiresome I know that I want to enjoy every spare second after I am done. That is one thing every workaholic will point out to you. You work hard for your moments of pleasure so you do not waste them.
I am happy to write again. The feeling of being able to finish a sentence while my thoughts dictate the words is a subtle reminder. It reminds me that even after so much time there is still much to discover. There is still much to write about because life goes on.
Time has passed…
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