Lack of Ideas

I’ve had trouble writing as of late. Not so much that I can’t use words properly to convey a thought, but more like a lack of ideas. This hasn’t ever happened to me before. Recently I’ve been dealing with depression and I can’t figure out if this is a factor in it, or a result of it…either way it irks me.

Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in this neutral gear and can’t seem to push pop that clutch and roll into first. I start to, I get really motivated and then, like that, the urge is gone again. I choose sitting with my dreams and ambitions and hope for the best. I think about this future self that is everything I wish to be. Has all the accomplishments, all the recognition, all the things that make up what my ego considers a successful journey.

When my brain pulls itself out of the illusions and fantasies of the unknown I’m left with realizing I’m still just sitting in front of my computer, in a less than large bedroom, in a decent enough neighborhood of Chicago and realize with all my hard work and ideas, I’m still nowhere.

I don’t know if this is a good thing or not, but it’s definitely scary. If we lived forever this would be all well and good, but every moment that passes another moment of opportunity arises and ultimately passes uneventfully. Those around me would say I’m being to hard on myself, others would say well, then get to work. Both are right. But yet I still sit here thinking about the stories I will write and the novel that has remained unedited in my dresser and what it will be one day. How with it’s publishing will come a clear answer to the naysayers. They will look at me and say, you were right bud, I thought you were nuts, but you were right. Good for you.

In reality what does that even matter. I’ve learned over time that nobodies opinion about me really matters but my own, I know this. I know this to be a truth in the world and a major power source for people like myself to continue to chase their dreams in spite of failure, black lash, and often poverty. Yet, I still beg for the favor of others. I hope and pray that people will see me as this great person that surprised them all. But I know…I know for a fact, that me wanting that is insane.

This tendency seems to be a reoccurring theme in my life. Be it, my art, exercise and health, weed, my stagnant and going nowhere work life, and anything else you could name. I’m constant and consistently stopping short of success. Am I scared to be the best I can be? Am I just a coward in general? Do I really, truly belong to that entitled bitchy generation that old people complain about? Is it pure laziness that keeps my goals out of reach?

I can’t give you the answer to be honest. Possibly a little bit of everything, but what I do know is all my life I’ve failed at the things I’ve attempted. I wasn’t the kid who got the girl, I’m not the all star the coaches hoped for, I can’t read as well as the others, I’ve written a novel and can’t bring myself to edit it, I’ve played great shows with fantastic, talented, and popular artists, and never managed to play to very large crowds.

Some people believe it’s the energy we put off that attracts certain things in our lives. Well, if that’s the case, I’m in real trouble. I get more jaded every day. I get more angry at the people of the world every minute. My trust is at an all time low. My faith has retreated back to the trenches. My discipline is wavering. My soul is still strong. I get that from my mother I think. I still feel strong. I can move mountains if they would let me. Is that it? Am I still waiting for someone to tell me it’s alright to be great? I don’t know.

I’m thirty years old, I’ve had a million experiences and adventures. I’ve done some traveling, I’ve recorded multiple records, and completed the first draft of a novel that took me five years to write. I’ve been published numerous times in both old and new media, I’ve been throwing live music shows all over the city, and I’m still unsatisfied.

I don’t know what to think about all this, I just know that if we don’t continue to move forward we’re a waste of damn time. And time is the most valuable thing we have. So here’s to moving forward.