We all have this little voice in our heads that usually give rise to what a lot of writers call “stream of consciousness”. It’s like a commentary on being alive, feeling, sensing and thinking about what goes on around us.
Sometimes, I feel as if that little voice died.
People often associate this with things like creative stasis, writer’s block, which are trivial once you realize you live life like a fucking robot.
There are impulses, needs that a machine needs to satisfy. I have the same ones, except why does it feel like I go nowhere? That there is no natural growth? No self-actualization?
I am definitely not obsessed with self-improvement and such, but people change and develop naturally, and I see no natural change occuring to me. It is how everyone moves on and I am still stuck in some cave somewhere.
I am afraid of my marks coming out this Monday (hopefully).
Sigh.
