Envy

To whom? To TWG members / alumni.

I can't write, not even a single relevant or significant post in my blogs since January 25, much less something of literary value. This academic year's been a bitch for me. Although I got to work as a college instructor (modesty aside, in a ho-hum, so-so institution), it seems that since then, I have been in a sort of writer's block. Block, as in mental block in writing. Everytime that I get an idea of what to write, which also rarely happens since then, my pen would just end doodling on the paper. My eyes would just get watery staring at the screen in an attempt on changing the very face of the world with my text.

Worse, when I finally wrestled with myself into writing anything, usually in the form of a poem, or say a blog post like this, it'll just get butchered, not expressed even as a sigh, but a yelp. Instead of cooked sausages for breakfast, it'll be served looking like a mashed spam.

Pathetic, because everytime I see pictures of TWG alumni members in an activity like a workshop, forum, or just drinking beer, the more I refuse to succumb to the fact that the reason I cannot write is because I am not with them, although it seems that its obvious as the sun in midday. I cannot write because, it seems, as I am isolated from them, so am I isolated from literary practice. And to think that just after my graduation I have been hoping to improve my poetics, tch. So much so that when I imagine myself being with them in this or that event and the topic would be literature, I wouldn't be able to understand, much less keep up.

This year I don't remember writing anything with literary content, much less published on anything. Even managing to pass applications for workshops weren't done. I am not sure if this is to be blamed on my situation, or just my lack of organization and "talent," whatever that may be. I am thinking of being "invisible" from TWG people until I can write anything worthy of serious thought, but am not sure if this could be accomplished, or what would be accomplished by doing it.

As if being abused and degraded by my co-workers is not enough.

Fuck. I so hate this self doubt.

Was I really able to write?