End of an Era?
I suppose there comes a turning point in everyone's life where the things they typically turn to no longer hold any weight. My writing, my characters in particular, used to be my outlet. And I'm saddened to realize that perhaps they don't have the same affect on me as they once did. They will forever be real to me, as alive as you or I. But their lives are just parts of my untapped imagination, and living with them was a beautiful scapegoat from my unhappy reality. I want to retire them, but I can't seem to let go and just let them drift off without finishing their stories. They had so much to tell me, and so much to teach me, and I gave up because...I grew up.
I wish I had something more profound to say about it. I'm just...disheartened that when I want to write, I'm lost for words now. Ideas, boundless, fantastic ideas, used to come to me when I least expected and if I didn't get them down in writing they disappeared.
I wonder where they went...
I love each and every character I ever created, or had the pleasure to borrow from minds such as my own. I thank you for your years of companionship, adventures, drama, and laughter. It was an honor to have you in my head and share my time with you.
Visit me again some day, would you? I'd love to reminisce.
I wish I had something more profound to say about it. I'm just...disheartened that when I want to write, I'm lost for words now. Ideas, boundless, fantastic ideas, used to come to me when I least expected and if I didn't get them down in writing they disappeared.
I wonder where they went...
I love each and every character I ever created, or had the pleasure to borrow from minds such as my own. I thank you for your years of companionship, adventures, drama, and laughter. It was an honor to have you in my head and share my time with you.
Visit me again some day, would you? I'd love to reminisce.