It's always nice to see how you've given up on your dreams. Or it's not nice. I forget which one it is. I've realized something recently though. I have no follow through. At all. That is not that great.
If you had asked me what I wanted to become when I was younger I would've told you in a heartbeat. Filmmaker. Musician. Paleontologist. A terrible combination of all of them. Now? What do I want to be? What am I striving to become?
I do not know.
I'm just going through the motions. What happened to my aspirations and motivation? I must have misplaced them when I started growing up. If I started that at all. I was at home trying to play the guitar recently. Trying to write songs. I couldn't start. I couldn't even get myself to start thinking about it, really. I had given up before I had done anything.
I'm supposed to be working on a movie. We've got a script and everything. I can't even imagine shots. I want to, but nothing happens. Not like it used to. I used to look around and see everything through my camera lens. Everything was a scene. Hey, let's make a movie! That doesn't happen very often these days. I miss it.
I talked to an old friend the other day about writing. "What happened to that story you were working on a few years ago?" I asked. "Oh," he said. "That. I took a little...break from it." "Oh." I said. "I liked that story." "Are you working on any projects?" He asked me. I struggled to remember. I couldn't remember the last time I had worked on anything, really. I wished I had collected all of my thoughts over the years. Then I'd have something to work on for sure. There's always something to work on, I thought. But what am I working on? I scrambled back through the fragments of memories.
"Yes." I told him.
If you had asked me what I wanted to become when I was younger I would've told you in a heartbeat. Filmmaker. Musician. Paleontologist. A terrible combination of all of them. Now? What do I want to be? What am I striving to become?
I do not know.
I'm just going through the motions. What happened to my aspirations and motivation? I must have misplaced them when I started growing up. If I started that at all. I was at home trying to play the guitar recently. Trying to write songs. I couldn't start. I couldn't even get myself to start thinking about it, really. I had given up before I had done anything.
I'm supposed to be working on a movie. We've got a script and everything. I can't even imagine shots. I want to, but nothing happens. Not like it used to. I used to look around and see everything through my camera lens. Everything was a scene. Hey, let's make a movie! That doesn't happen very often these days. I miss it.
I talked to an old friend the other day about writing. "What happened to that story you were working on a few years ago?" I asked. "Oh," he said. "That. I took a little...break from it." "Oh." I said. "I liked that story." "Are you working on any projects?" He asked me. I struggled to remember. I couldn't remember the last time I had worked on anything, really. I wished I had collected all of my thoughts over the years. Then I'd have something to work on for sure. There's always something to work on, I thought. But what am I working on? I scrambled back through the fragments of memories.
"Yes." I told him.
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