i write to purge my soul of whatever infirmity i may have suppressed, but now i find my pieces even more melancholic than the last and putting it out there becomes hard, i know how important reflection is to me, i mean it's literally the only way i get to listen to what my heart tells me and yet the 'abundance of my knowing' leads to a blank space...
to be honest, i'd say i do not know what the unknown could possibly be like. i recently started writing on substack and i feel like it has been one unproductive post to another, i get torn between two questions, 'what do i write?' and 'who am i writing for?', and i still have no answers. i've been trying to reflect on what my journey here is meant to be. and i only get fatigue as my answer.
i write to purge my soul of whatever infirmity i may have suppressed, but now i find my pieces even more melancholic than the last and putting it out there becomes hard, i know how important reflection is to me, i mean it's literally the only way i get to listen to what my heart tells me and yet the 'abundance of my knowing' leads to a blank space...
to be honest, i'd say i do not know what the unknown could possibly be like. i recently started writing on substack and i feel like it has been one unproductive post to another, i get torn between two questions, 'what do i write?' and 'who am i writing for?', and i still have no answers. i've been trying to reflect on what my journey here is meant to be. and i only get fatigue as my answer.
Thank you 💜