10 years

I didn't know where to put this on my profile. I just came back here because I've been thinking about this place recently. I could barely remember my account information *facepalm.*

I left you on the hook and that's entirely on me.

No one tells you that when you get older a spark dies out: real life hits and imagination wanes. These stories were just two of so many dreams and creative musings. I used to do text based RPGs on invisionfree and proboards (two things I'm not even 100% sure exist anymore). I used to have imagination and creativity oozing from my pores. I used to excitedly log onto my computer and start typing, organizing my thoughts and creating entertaining scenarios. When I used to close my eyes at night my thoughts would continue into those worlds as I fell asleep, concocting the next plot line.

If only my hands could type as my brain worked. There would have been so many stories.

Then I went to college. I went to university and had every last drop of creativity wrung out of me. I let people tell me what to do and what not to do. I went to a Master's degree I didn't feel entirely invested in, but went anyways when others told me if I didn't go, I would never actually go back and I would, undoubtedly, regret my choice in the future. I sacrificed things I wanted to do for things other people thought I should do. Ironically, that thing they wanted me to do was the arts.

I wish I didn't let you down in the meantime and I wish I had the energy and the creative juices to continue and reimagine these stories. I read them now and I let out a sad laugh as the floodgates open in my head. Image after image comes to me; I often thought of my stories in pictures, kind of like a movie. When I didn't like something I'd cut that onto another paper and have the characters redo the scene in my mind.

I wish I didn't feel such indifference towards life, writing these stories would have been an incredible quarantine project. Honestly, I can't say for sure where that time went for myself. The past year doesn't feel like it was entirely real.

I'm trying to mentally work on myself right now. I want to get back to reading new books. I want to get back to rekindling my imagination; instead of simply closing my eyes and waiting for darkness as I go to sleep at night I want to once again imagine wonderful worlds and scenarios. I hope some day I'll be able to come back and complete, at the very least, one story.

So, I'm sorry. I know when I read a story I become incredibly invested and find myself reimaging them for myself whenever they go unfinished. I hope I'm just an oddball and no one else felt cheated by my disappearance.

Sincerely,
-Caro