Depressed writers thread

[Anonymous No.14728379]

post here if you want to be a writer, but are disillusioned.
how are you doing?
why do you want to be a writer?
have you written lately?

>I'm not good
>I don't know why I want to be a writer. it's so difficult, and I know I won't succeed, but I can't excise this desire
>I have written a few poems, but that's all

[Anonymous No.14728384]

>>14728379
Who is the chickarino?

[Anonymous No.14728388]

>>14728379
Not baiting,

if you don't know why you want to be a writer, why do you want to be a writer?

Legitimate question.

[Anonymous No.14728403]

>>14728384
qt aggie
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCgx0S10ngC6umn1QjvfGE5g
>>14728388
I have no idea. I think that's why I'm so upset about this. I can't rationalize why I would want to write, and I know it would be a life of almost 100% disappointment, but I can't seem to shake the idea. What is one supposed to do if they are awful at something, yet still want to do it more than anything for no real reason?

[Anonymous No.14728437]

i'm trying to write a screenplay but i'm going through some menial work but it doesnt demoralize me even if someone told me i was supposed to be having fun every time i write. what convinces me is there's tough work to get through in any passion. also writing is something i am not inept at all to share with anybody

feels like ive chosen to enter a race with 15 000 people in a wide open field and you can find any stereotype whichever way you move through the crowd but what i secretly hope for is to somehow end up being the last man standing. and so i'm not thinking about why the clueless crowd goes in 1 direction and not the other but i guess my role is to think about why they do it and write that down

[Anonymous No.14728447]

>>14728403
I started a small short story about Agatha and her dog Pam my discord is aggiefren#7020 if you want to read it. Though I’ve taken my writing more seriously recently and since started a new project revolving around worship of erotic consumerism.

[Anonymous No.14728476]

>>14728403
So you can't rationalize it, have no reasons for it, expect no reward from it, are self-described bad at it, and still have some unknowable desire to be a writer?

I am having a hard time grasping the concept

[Anonymous No.14728485]

Started writing again after many years and now I want to take the challenge to write in english as ESL for the first time, at least see how far can I take it before I burn myself out. Hope I can write something solid.

[Anonymous No.14728489]

>>14728476
I just don't know where the desire to create comes from. There was an interview with Andy Warhol, and when asked why he makes art he said "It's something to do." I guess it's kinda like that for me.

[Anonymous No.14728490]

>>14728476
He, like so many amateur writers has possibly fallen in love with the Arcadian world the imagination presents when crafting a good story. Now all is left is to practice articulation, and well he will be half way there.

[Anonymous No.14728517]

>>14728379
n the winter months of a small Chicago suburb, a dog returns home against the chill morning air, through snow cleared paths she comes, barking all the way, chased by the snowfall picking up behind her.

“It’s her! It’s Pammy, she’s back!”

Agatha paused her live stream, put down her mac book pro, and hurried down the stairs to retrieve her plush companion from her morning stroll. Pam and Agatha were acquainted before either of them could remember, and although she was the family dog, Pam was Agatha’s, the two were a bond. The girl felt comfortable confiding in Pam, and the Charles Spaniel surely listened to her every word as they snuggled to keep warm in the softest places. However, as Agatha matured the novelty of such embraces overstayed their welcome, until suddenly she began spending less time with Pam and nearly all of her time with the LED light emerging from her Laptop. It certainly was becoming a miserable state of affairs, eventually Agatha’s punctuality couldn’t be relied upon, - their morning walk - an event most precious to Pam, became uncertain, she could only expect a few necessities in her short life and even fewer so she could share with her love. In the early morning, solitude provided peace to the dog’s flustered mind.