Last time, I used to, in the dead of night, write a few sentences in my Black Book, whether about the day's events or major chronicles I had planned for. Now, nights are spent surfing the Internet, endlessly, sacrificing sleep and rest. What has become of me? Where has my creative self gone? The one that is lured by the immediacy of the written word, the printed page? And now a computer distracts?
Frequently I find myself thinking that I should stop reading and start writing already, or get on with life and whatever needs to be done. This has happened much too often. Recently I pinpointed Facebook and its endless nature as a threat to my focus, and reduced the act of reading every status update there was till the point where I last stopped, which wastes a lot of time. So, one time-waster laid to rest.
What about the others? Twitter is still manageable. Blogs, not so. Of course, the fact that I'm writing now bodes well for my efforts at reducing distractions. I only need to take it further and focus entirely on my intended tasks.
To the NightWalk manual! And the FOC Chronicles!
But first, to sleep.