I used to be able to put my feelings to words. And the words would flow so naturally, as with my tears and emotions.

But over the years, in order to survive in this competitive society, I’ve learned to “just not think about it.” I learned that nothing mattered more than productivity. To get more work done, to make more money, to know more people. To have more, more, and more.

And that meant getting rid of any emotion that stood in the way.

Feeling too anxious to talk to people? Have a swig of whiskey, and everyone will like you.

Feeling depressed and unmotivated? You don’t need motivation. Do it like clockwork.

Feeling unhappy with something? Change your mindset. Smile. Move on.

“Did it pay off?” one might ask.

Well, you tell me. I can buy whatever I want. People don’t hate me. Some might even think that I am…somebody.

But now, I am just an empty canvas. With no depth. No story. No words. No inspiration. Just an endless void. A polished shell filled with existential dread.

Perhaps its time to pick up the pen once again…

“You were made to create, not clock in.
You were made to express, not shrink.
You were made to live, not just survive until the weekend.”