Sudah lama tidak menulis secara kritis menjadikan aliran kreatif bagai air static di empangan. Punyai tenaga upaya untuk membuat turbin berputar, tapi sehingga datangnya keperluan, ia hanya sekadar air yang berupaya, belum ada daya. Sekadar reminisi matapelajaran Sains tingkatan tiga.
Like hittin’ a stonewall, it did not just hurt you to bleed, cracked your skull, ruptured your spleen, messed you liver; it killed momentum and on this context, creativity. Maybe some contusion to you productivity. We messing up with inertia, when you move, you’ll be pretty wrecked to suddenly stop. When you stop, it took a while to finally pick up the same speed you once before, let alone to actually overtook it.
I used to harbor narcissism onto my writing, and laugh at my inside joke but not anymore, given recently. My writing just sucks. Maybe too many sleep-less night, and stolen time (of thieves are my own inadequacy of control). I couldn't leave myself alone with my radical thoughts. I was tamed and blunted. My critical thinking silenced, like some crook just duct-taped it…and held a sharp knife to my neck. "Speak and you are a dead man," and I don't even contradicts the slightest in my own head.
I hate it when I hate what I wrote. My grammar, my vocabs got downgraded to a level of pedestrians in some godforsaken province somewhere in People Republic of China.
Exam is lurking like your private vampire who has been breathing on your neck centuries ago. I need a flow, I need a strong stream of words, I need to re-open the dam to generate sparks. For that, that dam need to be open I re-emphasized. I just couldn’t figure out how. Maybe some inspiration?
Maybe this is how we age?
Maybe the weather
...temperature
Maybe caffeine…
*pardon my non-sequitur*
**I know I am going to edit-re-edit this entry for all the fallacies there are.
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