I do not enjoy writing anymore. I am even considering “other” forms of journalism – radio, TV, online – just so I can be motivated into picking up the pen again.
Perhaps the word “again” is kinda misleading… since I was relieved of all writing assignments earlier this year.
As an intern with the publishing arm of the biggest media content producer in the nation, my work – my words, my ideas – actually made it to print! But if I might be quite honest, I wasn’t truly enjoying the process.
I had thought my writing quite flawless, so when I was offered a second term of internship instead of a full-time writing position with another magazine title, it had hit me quite literally as a slap on the face.
And the sting is killing me. Suddenly, the song Killing Me Softly (with his Song) takes on a new meaning.
Since we are on the topic of songs, allow me to digress. I consider song-writing to be a journalistic endeavour though purists (read: newspaper journalists) may beg to differ – it does require putting pen to paper and stringing words in a coherent, and hopefully, poignant and heartfelt manner that would win the song-writer a Grammy or platinum record sales.
And yes, I have considered lyric-composition during this drought.
Even though I am not musically inclined, it does offer the opportunity to indulge angst, despair, and every single murderous thought in a mild, harmless manner.
And more importantly: I will be writing again.
Perhaps I should.