This post is a little bit paradoxical, but I figured it’s something we all struggle with. When you write, you write and that is great. But when you don’t?
It’s a challenge. Usually I just get on with it but there’s something harder about that at the moment. I’ve been excited to start draft three of Robot Dreams for months and have scarcely wrote since January.
Winters are hard for me generally, the lack of sunlight makes creative pursuits a challenge once the joys of NaNo, Christmas and the first snow of the year are all used up. This winter more so than others, with the added difficulties posed by being in my final year at university. My degree takes up a lot of my time and energy and lately I’ve been pouring at least a little of my creative energy into essays and uni projects rather than saving it up for personal projects that, sadly, can’t be my priority right now.
Once my dissertation is handed in, I’ll be able to give writing more of a focus again. Until then, I might be a little more absent than usual, but that’s not really out of choice. It’s out of the knowledge that every moment I give to my studies over the next three months matters and is the start of the end of a long journey that began when I was seventeen and applying to universities, or sixteen when I went on a summer school right here.
It’s been five years in the making and once I leave Durham, file away the notes and try and keep in touch with the friends I’ve made, all that will be left will be the things I’ve done here. The memories, the photos, the degree certificate.
Previous posts have shown, I’ve not always been happy here in this city but the closer it comes to the end of my time here the more it feels like the end of an era. I’ve learned a lot here, about myself and about the world around me. I’ve wrote for student newspapers, I’ve spent hours playing board games with friends and I’ve also spent far too long watching Netflix.
There’s something odd about final year. I don’t have the time or the energy to write, and that’s why I’m writing this, but suddenly this post has become an outpouring of emotion. An early burst of nostalgia, before the year is even done. There are four months left before I pack up all of my belongings, wear a gown for possibly the last time and head those few miles down the motorway back home with Durham perhaps feeling only like a footnote in my life.
I don’t know how that’ll feel, when it’s time to leave. I’ll probably be happy, I’ll probably be sad. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.
There’s dissertations to write, essays to read for, exams to prep for. The days are getting brighter, less cold, and I can be more hopeful.
Whatever comes next after uni, I know I’ll be ready.
And hopefully, at least some of that, will involve getting back to writing again. More on my future plans when I actually have them set in stone!
For the meantime —
Have a good weekend.