Wandering

Lately I've had a hard time knowing what I want to do, either with my life in general or my writing in particular. I'd love to have more friends to talk to about the writing part at least, whether writers themselves or just folks who enjoy fiction.

Growing up, I always felt I had so much to say to the world and about it. But these days I don't know what message to get out. Cuz even fantasy and scifi has a message, even if it's "Wouldn't X be cool?" Anxiety and depression have made it harder for me to see something like that, from me, as worthwhile. But it hasn't stifled my wish to reach out to people.

As for my life, there's still so many things I want to see and do, but it feels like there's no bridge I can see from where I am to what I want. And I don't have the materials or energy to make one myself. And I worry that if I spend my time trying to get the planks and rope to make one, it'll be too late to do the things I want when I'm on the other side. Is it better to try and work toward the life you want knowing you're likely to fail? Or is it better to accept what you have and just work toward what's in your reach that will make you the happiest?

I don't know the answer. It's probably different for different people. Maybe I could write a book about it. hah