Force.

I am forcing myself to write. I don't have a clear message, or purpose, but I write on anyway. It's like how sometimes, you put an empty canvas in front of you, and you cross your fingers and you hope that something good will come out of it. It's the same with this. As the words fill the empty space, I hope that something wonderful will be produced. It's heartening, to an extent, because where once, there was nothing, now, there is something.

Where once, me and you had no connection, as you read this, we forge one, and I hope that you can get to know me better. Because you know me, of my existence, I feel more alive. I'm not sure whether that makes sense.

There are specific things that I want to write about, but I can't. I physically and emotionally can't. It's like when I begin to think about it, my breathing gets ragged, my mind becomes empty and I shiver and shake. It's quite bad. Maybe one day...but not today. Not anytime soon too.

School is in full-swing and the midterms, quizzes and presentations are knocking at my door. I sit in front of my laptop and I ignore those knocks. Or at least try to. Right now, it doesn't feel particularly important - all these things. Ultimately, I don't know how this will affect me in the long run. The grades will, for sure, but I think that scoring wouldn't be a problem. Or maybe I'm disillusioned.

I want to focus better. I want to find out what I want to do, what I meant to do. And I want to dedicate my life to a higher purpose. Right now, I'm just going through it, and it's making me very uncomfortable. I'm starting to question everything that I do, questioning every single day. I'm still keeping up, and doing my work, but I think my motivations are wrong. I don't want to look bad, ever, and there is the root of my problem - I'm seeking validation base on how others see me, and not whether I actually like what I'm doing.

But maybe that's the way life is? I don't know. If you can tell me, great, go ahead.

Please, blow my mind.