I enjoy writing. I wouldn't do it if I didn't.I enjoy knowing that someone somewhere may be looking at and reading what I write. And in principle, that would seem to be enough to guarantee that I'll write with some regularity. And yet...
I just can't seem to get motivated to do it. Every evening when I finally have time to myself, time to think and write in peace, I balk at it. The excuses begin forming in my head even before the thought of writing has surfaced.
"I'm too tired..."
"I'm not in the mood to write..."
"I don't know what to write about..."
"I am just not feeling motivated..."
And the ultimate excuse, "I'll write tomorrow."
And then before I know it, a great weariness and inertia set in and I'm watching TV or reading or grudgingly working... Anything but writing.
And the irony of it is, most of the time, if I force myself to do it, I can manage to come up with something worth reading. An essay, a rant, a story, even a lone, beautifully crafted sentence. When I try, I can usually break through the barrier, but I don't try. Instead, I indulge in a sniff of self-pity and fob it off with whatever excuse happens to be handy.
Except for nights like tonight... Nights when I force myself and kick at the barrier and write. Write something. Write anything worth reading.
