Discipline.

Discipline.

I’ve always said that I really only write when inspiration strikes. I’ve said this for two reasons. Reason number one is that I have an overly romanticized view of art, or to put it another way, I am stupid. Reason number two is that I am (quite) lazy.

Let’s take a look at the first reason. I’m not sure where this idea came from, but ever since I first began to feel the desire to create, I’ve been burdened with the notion that art must be directly inspired, that it must have a cause, that it must have a purpose. I simply couldn’t shake the notion that forcing the creative process somehow cheapened the final product or made it less vital.

Like I said, I’m stupid.

I’ve always had the cause. The cause was the creative desire that I already felt.

As for the second reason, It’s a chicken and egg scenario, isn’t it? While my personal take on the creative process allowed me to indulge or rationalize my laziness, my laziness subconsciously fertilized, incubated and nurtured a value system based on a fallacy that further entrenched and coddled and blah blah blah blah blah. I rendered myself a perpetual stagnation machine.

So, to review, I am stupid and lazy.

Also, I have a crippling fear of failure, which is why...

I promise you nothing.

(See what I did there?)