I abhor how day by day, I’m losing resolve. It’s chipping away, piece by piece till there’s none left. I can’t hold myself together any longer, it hurts. I don’t like being a good for nothing. Nothing about me is exceptional. I love writing. I can’t write. I love singing. I can’t sing. I can’t do anything right. I can barely express myself. I don’t even have the courage to tell anyone about my writings because it just isn’t good enough ( it never was good to begin with ) My thoughts are too loose, always all over the place. My nonexistent writing skills are unable to convey what I wish to say maturely and fluently ( beautifully if possible ).I used to be better but I don’t know what happened. I wanted my writings to touch people and to make them happy. I wanted people to enjoy my writings but how would one enjoy the thrashy work i come up with. It looks like barely any effort is put in but little did you know every single word, every single character holds so much. I’d switch on the air conditioner, get myself comfortable with my back propped against the headrest. I’d take an occasional sip of a cool drink beside my bed before I’d take so much pride to slowly craft a supposed masterpiece.
My writings mean so much to me, I hold them so closely to me because it’s the black and white evidence of how much I’ve improved (which obviously isn’t enough ) I love writing but I don’t know how to improve, I don’t know how to be better. It’s not about the age, I’m just not cut for it. I’m losing my resolve, you see. I don’t know what I’m saying, I’m giving up, slowly and steadily, letting go. How do i persevere if I have lost so much strength. I’m tired.