Chapter 1
I'm being lazy. This has been one of the longest writers blocks I have ever experienced, it has lasted over 3 years. I feel like after I started focusing on my school work, my imagination has died, it's collapsed, it's been suppressed by Mary Shelly, Margret Atwood and Iris Murdoch. It has been eaten by Freud and Asch and Milgram and spat out by the apartheid policies, Harding and his republican views and Nixon and his Watergate scandals.
My mind has become boring and worried and stressed, I barely have any time to write anymore, it's either filled with work, school or friends. I've seemed to have lost my childhood wonder and my motivation. I can't write anymore because I am too focused on how I'm writing it than what I'm writing.
I have lost all sense of control on my interests. I have about three well-developed ideas but somehow my interests burn up so quickly and the idea is just pushed aside.
Damn you age, damn you, adulthood. You have taken the best thing away from me, my imagination was all I had, it was everything I was. Now I just an empty shell with a wide understanding of why Franklin Roosevelt was a better president than Hoover, and how Zimbardo's Standford Prison Experiment was unethical as it created a shit tone of psychological harm.
This is what you've done to me, adulthood, I can only write properly if I am talking about my studies, I can only write more than one sentence when I'm documenting my thoughts and my facts.
God damn you, adulthood.
I can relate to this very much
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