There are days when I feel like writing nothing at all. On some days, I don’t even feel like thinking about anything or anyone. I might not be gloomy or sad but maybe just tired or void of thoughts. Even if I try, I am not able to form a composition.

 

If something—a person, a situation, the weather—anything clicks, a blog will be ready within minutes and if not or if I come to a halt at a certain point of the composition while writing, completing it might take as much long a time as you can imagine—a few minutes, a few hours, half a day, a full day, a week, a month, several months or even a year or more than that.

There is no certainty whether I will be able to complete writing the post that I start to write or what the end will be. This uncertainty is fascinating to me. I am confronted with my own psyche or unconscious during the process. Thinking, writing or any kind of art clarifies the contents of my unconscious to me. It makes me meet myself. Often, if I am stuck at a situation and I write it down, I am presented with a solution by the end of writing it. 

This uncertainty is not only fascinating to me in the case of writing but in the case of whole life. At one time, it makes me gloomy but at the other, it also pulls me out of a state of darkness and gloom with the sudden arrival of a positive occasion. It makes me revolve in a roller coaster ride of extremities. I believe, life is a mixture of uncertainties. 

Uncertain

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