"Under Giant Trees": A Recurring Theme
When I flip through my collection of notebooks, I am often met with a surprise. I’ll either stop reading because the words feel too familiar or because I don’t want to be reminded of my past. Most of the time, it feels heavy to read a past version of myself. However, sometimes I find beauty in reflecting. For example, the other day, I came across this journal entry below and eight months later, I can still relate. But this time, instead of feeling hopeless, I felt inspired.
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07.28.25
I haven't written in so long. It makes me sad. Wonder, curious. Confused. Did I just grow up? Did adulthood take over? Did I lose motivation and passion? Not sure what the point is in writing anymore. What happened to my writing being interesting? I'm not sure how to be in tune with my creative side. I feel nothing. Writing feels like a chore... just like all the other things in my life. Eating, cleaning, sleeping, work, school, life. It's not fun anymore. I'm not sure if it's my mind, a mental thing? If I keep writing what if I start crying? My hand is already hurting from writing this much. It makes me so sad. Maybe I can try writing in poetry language and not journal style—
until the next thought 💭
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