It's hard because I don't feel like Daniel anymore. I feel different. Different. Old topics are gone... And I feel the pressure. Fear. Loneliness. Caution.
Pressure from my imaginary readers who want the same thing they have already tasted, but I can't serve it again because my recipe has changed.
Fear that I am no longer good enough, interesting enough, useful enough to say something. Am I just wasting your time?
Loneliness, because I haven't yet found a connection with my inner critic - the reader, to whom I dedicate my texts. (You know, I don't mean you when I talk about you - I mean this imaginary consumer.)
Caution, because I don't-know where I'm going at the moment.
Do I want to talk again?
Yes. But I don't know what about. I don't know what I want to say. I just know that I feel good when I talk, so... I should probably go on?
...Or is it a sign that I am only saying things that please me and do not benefit others?
I don't know.
I just found it difficult to speak.
For about two years now, a year and a half...
