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Creativity

Thinking about creative stuff. Again.

I’m not sure I actually enjoy writing all that much… the results can be pleasing on occasion, but the process itself, I’m not so sure about… I have a strong feeling I’m just grasping at something a few people seem to think I do well. I’ve read interviews with lots of writers and they always say, ‘I just have to write. Even if I was penniless and a complete failure, I’d still have a write. It’s a need.’ I don’t feel that. I’m just trying to find something that I can earn money from.

I did enjoy drawing. A long time ago. But once I realised I was crap, the enjoyment disappeared a good deal, because I’d spent several years chasing something I wasn’t real good at.
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I am the Weakest Link!

Irregular blog entries = strong indication of continuing lack of enthusiasm.

How do I feel at the moment? Good and bad, in an odd sort of way. At times, I think I have a shitload of things to say here but my mind often goes blank when it comes to putting them down—quite often, it’s fleeting observations on some television programme I watched, etc., so nothing too exciting.

On the telly theme, it bothers me a bit that I sit and watch Who Wants to be a Millionaire and The Weakest Link, not with detached boredom but almost a genuine level of interest! Am I turning into a middle-aged couch potato? Even worse, the ‘Who Shot Phil?’ palaver on EastEnders had me fairly gripped. I should be ashamed of myself.
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