Thursday, June 14, 2012

Motivation and Reflection

I've just finished cleaning my desk in the hopes of spurring on my creativity by being organized. I feel like I've been slacking in my writing for the past couple of weeks, churning out my work just before my self-imposed deadlines (which I only end up enforcing because others are waiting for that work) and dragging my feet when it's time for me to write. I'm hoping that I can jumpstart my "writing juices" by getting myself to learn to sit down and focus more often than I normally do.
Thus the cleaning off of my desk.

It seems I get both reflective and motivated at night. Motivated in the sense that I do some of my best writing at night, probably get the most cleaning done (like my desk), and generally strive to create goals for myself or seek how I can do things differently, therefore improving my way of life. I become reflective in the sense that I start analyzing the things that are going on in my life, which inevitably ends up making me emotional because I tend to focus on the negative things. It was in that mood and state of being that Growing Up, my last blog post, was written.

This is where I find myself right now. I'm thinking up goals for myself and planning out art projects I'd like to complete quite soon. I'm mourning the impending and likely inevitable loss of a friendship while stressing over the job interview I had today.

I suppose I get restless when I'm up late and this causes my mind to slingshot through emotions and such. It's a bit irritating, but I learn a great deal about myself during these late night forays into the depths of my own mind. Sometimes I'm not sure if this is something to be desired or cautiously avoided. There are times when it hurts to mess with old wounds or try to clean up new ones, but if we don't examine those wounds, we can't clean them and ultimately stimulate healing. It's a frustrating chain of events. I'm the sort that likes to coddle my emotional wounds and bottle them up until they become unhealthy and begin to fester. Let's just say I'm not great with emotions.

It's probably quite obvious that I'm writing this late at night and I wonder if it will even be coherent to all of you. Oh well. Maybe that just means I need to start getting some sleep and cut down on the "exploration of my inner self." It's rather uncomfortable, after all.

Then again, some of the most beautiful things emerge from discomfort.

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