First Draft Club

i don't want to write today.

maybe on a different day or in a different place or at a different moment, i would force it. i would choose a topic and write 3000 characters and read it once over before clicking publish and keeping everything else to myself. 

but not today.

because today i feel nothing, which admittedly is weird for someone who usually feels everything.

i sit on my balcony as the sun sets, curled up in a blanket with my laptop and the autumn air kissing my cheeks.

"i'm so lucky to call this place home," i think, but there is a vacant, vacuous space in place of the warm gratitude that burns and bursts through me during most other moments like this.

i look at my blank screen. empty.

i look back at the sun, listening to the chitter chatter from the crowds on the boardwalk and the steady hum of traffic on pacific.

whether on foot or in car, whether towards the water or back east, all of those people are moving. and i'm not.

suddenly i realize that what i feel isn't nothing. it's stagnant.

/ted | exploring the onchain frontier | surfing @ venice, ca | eating @ gjusta / gjelina



it's a stagnant sense of apathy that weighs me down, like quicksand pulling me deeper into a pit of indifference.

i close my laptop, feeling the weight of unspoken words pressing against my chest.

maybe tomorrow, when the sun rises again, i'll find the motivation to write. but not today.