As if by magic, it seems I disappeared for a while. And yes, I have. I do apologise for being gone so long. Consistency does not seem to be a friend of mine recently, and neither does life. I cannot seem to find a rhythm long enough to develop a routine with the constant battle with depression.
Eight years ago, I started writing this blog. Year after year, I’ve found myself repeating like a broken record, “I need to take my writing more seriously” or “I need to write more consistently.” Last month, I made the decision to write 2000 words every day. Guess how many I wrote? Possibly about ten thousand words. Across the entire month. Everything seemed to get into the way. After struggling for the last week with being unable to focus, I decided to pick up The War of Art by Steven Pressfield last weekend; I read bits of it in the past, but I need to read it again. And guess who procrastinated reading that? You got it! I did, until yesterday when I forced myself to read it.