*clears throat* hi everyone,

So, I have been confronted with this kind of conflict lately - whenever I feel like writing, I always tell myself it has to be something to be posted. Whenever I start a story, it has to be posted. Whenever I write a drabble it has to be posted. Whenever I think of a possible scenario, it has to become a story to be posted.

I feel like I no longer write for myself, but for others, which is something I always, excuse me for the term, despised. I mean, writing for the audience and not for myself. Though there's always veracity in everything I write, though everything is authentic and everything is what I want to write, I always have the "will they understand what I mean here, do I have to make myself explain it clearly" thought in mind. It's... bothering me. 

I have been wanting to write this blog post ever since yesterday, but today, saturday, I found myself rummaging the "dark" folders of my external disk and found some stories, fanfictions and a diary from before 2009, my Tokio Hotel and Cinema Bizarre era - I was... 13? 14, around that age. It... amazed me. It amazed me because they were exceptionally well written. With all modesty, of course. They are all written in portuguese and I used to write oh-so-well. I don't know what happened in the meantime, but I would give everything to write like that again. I was always so serious, and there's this maturity along all the texts that leaves me really dumbfounded - I had no idea I was like that once. Makes me want to go back to writing in Portuguese. Makes me wonder if I could write like that again. 

Just like now, I had many started stories, and few were finished. They always had this "hope" in between. And now, looking, reading these recent ones (didn't re-read them, but knowing them)... there's only sadness, drama. I wonder if something inside of me changed. 

As I said just before, I also found a diary, named "the so funcking Amy's diary" (Amy used to be the name I used on the internet, Amy Allen - it has a meaning, will explain later). I was utterly shocked by its content. Although I was quite aware of its existence, I had totally forgot of its content. Words of depression, death wishes, the feeling of being lonely and betrayed - everything. And I don't remember at all having written that. 

So at the time I was feeling horrible, but I wrote hopeful stories, and now, feeling... Well, not exactly feeling well, but feeling, oh who cares, well, I only write sad, angsty stories. Kind of leaves me confused...

But back to the main topic! This has been happening too much lately and it's leaving me frustrated. I want to stop for a while, to leave the computer alone for a few days, weeks, and write. Write whatever comes to my mind and heart. The other day I told you i went to a Creative Writing workshop and everything went so perfect, the flow was just what I wanted, and I wrote freely, just like I felt like. Because I had no one pressuring me - and that "no one" is me; it's me telling myself I need to write that story because those subscribers are waiting - b-but today I don't feel like writing this one, might as well as start another one and I promise that this one I'll only publish when I finish it - and there they are, my thoughts every single day. But hey! I'm not blaming anyone but myself on this. Because updating became a priority within me - which is good, we are dealing with people here, right? and I, as a reader, hate to wait - yet I don't know how to control it, and before I knew it, it became a lot larger than the real need of writing, a need if I was well, sane, would be something I felt daily, but I don't.

I don't know what's happening with me, but it's really leaving me frustrated and very, very tired.

What are you turning into, Mafalda?