I have been hit with a draught for words lately. My literary brain cells have come to a slow halt and as time goes by, I find myself lost for things to blog about. scampering for something to talk about and searching for the right words to aptly string my sentences. I am beginning to understand better what a writer's block mean.
The weeks seem to fly by at 60mins/hour. Everytime I look up the clock, it will be breakfast hour. Lunch hour. tea hour. and then pack-your-bags-shut-down-your-laptop-hour. They say you have found your passion at work when time whizz by at the speed of light. I wouldn't argue with them but I also would not agree that I have found my passion at work yet. 9 months have come and go and yet I still have an average of 5 moanings a day about this. I still go through my "morning sickness" at the thought of work. I don't glow like the rest. I am just bloated. I am almost due to deliver the consequence from one night of bad decision but doubts still swirl in my hormones. What one night? That one night. There was this one night, fresh from college and intoxicated with brilliant stars on my graduating certificate, I went to bed with this man, named Rational. Rational slowly lay me bare in his arms, inserted his Conscience into me and planted his seed of "law school" in me. So here I am carrying the "child" of this one night stand. The product of Rational and the seed of "law school". I am going to join this league when the "child" is due - a league of legal professionals. A role where only the elite few are privy to. A role that will require loads of nurturing and sacrifices.
I have come to realise that its all a little too late for an "abortion" now. I have carried this "child" too far now to kill it off and pretended that one night with Rational did not happen. I am partially delighted in looking forward to deliver it and to join that prestige league of legal professions but I am also partially afraid. I may not be ready for this. I am not prepare for all that will come. It may just be too overwhelming. I am still so young to "mother" another. *shudder shudder*
Then again, this might just be a post traumatic stress disorder from my 9 months of carrying this burden.
Or I will have to speak to Rational again after the "baby" is born.
Or I will have to just think of an alternative to get rid of the "baby".
Or is this what they called a writer's block?
