What happened to me? What happened to all the ambition, the plans, the inner focus? The urgency to find and express who I am, to live my life for me and noone else. I'm a skateboarder, but I barely go out into the streets anymore. I used to grab my board regularly and enjoy every second of every minute on it. Now I manage one, maybe two sessions at the spot per week.
I'm a reader, but I can't even make time to sit down with a book for half an hour. I feel stupid sometimes, stupid in a very basic way. Dull and dumb are two simple synonyms. Simple is yet another example and dimwitted a more bitter-tasting one. And writing, too. I feel like I'm losing my imagination. There are no more ideas in my head. There's no room for them to grow right now.
I used to call myself an enthusiastic photographer. I remember my plan to always carry my camera with me wherever I go. Matter of fact, I still do, but it's the actual act of taking it out, of choosing the frame and pushing the shutter-release button that is lacking consistency. I used to train my photographic eye every day. Now I see something and let it pass. And it's gone, forever.