Writing has become my hobby of choice lately but I can't put my finger on the reasons why.
My passion use to lie in fitness, working out and "self maintenance" yet as the days continue on and the calender pages fall these things are becoming a distant memory.
Why is there such a struggle to find the motivation to do what came so easily?
If am able to fight my habitual ADD for doing anything and everything BUT then there's usually small burst of sudden relief afterwards.
Perhaps these scarce attempts come with disappointment attached. I've fallen so far from myself that it's like fighting a temper tantrum just to get back.
Oh well, what's one to do?
At this point I suppose if the opinions of others falter it will carry little to no concern to me.
For once in my life I'm finding myself not caring about the opinions of such superficial things.
My passion use to lie in fitness, working out and "self maintenance" yet as the days continue on and the calender pages fall these things are becoming a distant memory.
Why is there such a struggle to find the motivation to do what came so easily?
If am able to fight my habitual ADD for doing anything and everything BUT then there's usually small burst of sudden relief afterwards.
Perhaps these scarce attempts come with disappointment attached. I've fallen so far from myself that it's like fighting a temper tantrum just to get back.
Oh well, what's one to do?
At this point I suppose if the opinions of others falter it will carry little to no concern to me.
For once in my life I'm finding myself not caring about the opinions of such superficial things.
