Thinker or a writer…who am i?

Okay! So i have been missing in action. Don’t ask…long story but im back. Two things i realized from my absence, not writing makes me very sad, like really.

Have missed on so many blogs and posts that i follow. Man! it feels like an era of absence.

Well good thing nothing much has happened, nothing new happened and no big thing that i didnt post about. Life, in my case, is like a planet keeps moving without it feeling like it is.

I have a story building up inside my head and i want to work on it but then i have two others stories screaming attention out loud at me. I wish i was one of those people, you find at cafes sitting alone with a laptop, endless cups of coffee and a no place else to be, nothing else to do except type type type. I had a thought yesterday about my writing. I dont think im a writer, atleast not a good one but i still write because i get these ideas and stories playing inside my head. So what am i? A thinker or a writer?

I have to go now but i will be back tomorrow because this is what i do, i write…!!!!

“Im not a vampire” now repeat this one more time…!!!!

“Im not a vampire, Im not a vampire, Im not a vampire” Now repeat this one more time and remember a human being sleeps at night.

I am on leave for two days because my father is unwell and alone at home. We missed the wedding. Now I’m home being a homely person. I make tea and I cook. Something I do only under “mom not home” circumstances.

Two days I did not touch my story, didn’t do anything worthwhile, wasted doing nothing at all. I need to sleep on time. Right now my head hurts because I was up till 230am doing nothing.
Yesterday I was a different kind of sad. I wasn’t angry or crying, I was actually being rational. I told myself that chances are I’m going to end up being where I don’t want to, I might end up living a lie all my life but either ways I should never forget the real me, never ever regret not even a second of my story.

Right now I want to just sleep, but I have to make breakfast for my dad, give him his medicines and then make something for myself though am not hungry at all. I’m writing through my phone as an effort to keep me awake.

I want to close my eyes so badly. I wish I would do it at night when I’m suppose to. Fckn idiot that’s what I am sometimes.