“Don’t let a day of the week have so much power over your happiness.”
—Andrea L’Artiste

It’s Monday again. That day when we start back up our schedule and are reminded of the perpetual cycle that we willfully force ourselves into. This is my guess for why we all hate Mondays. But, there are those of us who look forward to this dreary day and to those people, I wish to say congratulations. You have done something that makes your life happy. Be proud of that.

Anyway. Enough moaning. Well, enough about Monday anyway. I want to write. I want to write badly. I want to weave tales of adventure and moral dilemma. I want to etch out tales that make its readers weep for loss, loathe the tragic ‘heroes’, and long for moments of bliss. But, whenever they get those moments, I want them to fear what I have in store for them next. I want to write something worth reading but have found it so terribly difficult to face the act of writing itself. I fear it. I do not wish to put myself through that. But I want to write. I want to write.

EDIT: Being unable to find a category for this post I figured I’d just make a new one. So here is some explanation on this category. I have recently started to keep a journal. I write down whatever I like at the end of the day in its pages and close it off so that the rest of the world cannot see it. This category is for those posts that are meant to function as those diary entries that I wish to remain open.



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