Can’t really say I stopped, but then somehow I got into this highly self-conscious thing about my writing and started analyzing stuff far too critically even before I put it on paper.
Crazy rt?? But how many of the times does it happen that we think about doing something and analyse and re-analyse it so much that eventually the novelty and the freshness of the effort is lost? A period where this happened far too many times with me. In fact had to force myself to pen down something just to keep my blog alive… or may be just breathing.
Do we call this a writer’s block? I wouldn’t fancy myself to be a seasoned one, but then all said and done I do write and hence can claim to be one :-). No wonder, all this while I missed something. I missed the freedom of expressing myself in the form I love the most. Unrestrained and unbridled in the world created by me for me and some others who would want to be a part of it.
So here I was going about noting all that I wanted to pen, at the most weird times and hours, trying to collage and compile and re-compile stuff. The end result I do not post anything. Agreed writing is an art, but I think I want to do it in my way. More spontaneous and more like me!