I am extremely unsure of what story I want to write.
I'm so happy to be writing again that I'm almost giddy. It feels like a first kiss with the promise of love. It feels like a hug from someone you never thought you would see again, and it feels like just breathing.
See what I mean? I've gone back to useless prose that I've started writing once more. Putting words together and forming phrases, that, in my opinion, sounds beautiful: painting a picture with words is beautiful, when you don't have that anymore, or can't do it, well... there's no painting going on, so there's no picture.
Working with a purpose means a lot to a writer. At least, in my opinion it does. Knowing that I'm working on something that has a finish line feels like a saftey net: as if I have a desination that I will, sooner or later, arrive at.
Now, I'm just free writing. Moving from one story to another; one mind set to another. Its a bit scary because I don't want to stop writing or become frustrated with the process of free writing, or just become scared that I won't be able to pick out a story that I want to finish.
Yet, I'm overthinking it. I'm writer, I over think everything. I believe it cant be helped.
Setting goals has its good and bad. I look at it as if its a brick wall, and I have to lay the bricks down. With each brick set, the better the chances that i will end up with a great foundation and a darn good looking house. Free writing... there is no bricks, no goal, no end.
Deadlines can be intimitading but its a light at the end of the tunnel.
I'm writing again. That was a huge step. I'm not known for my patience, but I feel like I need to have them with this.