Live: Like a Machine

Although I've been on holiday for two weeks this past month, I feel like life has gone by in a blurr. Like somebody took a picture of light bulbs without focussing on the lights. Bokeh.
Days have passed and I couldn't tell you exactly how. I've had work to do - which is still awaiting me like a left-behind puppy when I return home, back to civilization from the cute, little town my aunt and uncle live in - I met some friends and contributed new memories to my imaginary jar before serious business starts again in October (I'll fill you in on what's happening in another post).

And I've read. I've read books like my life depended on finishing one after the other because I'm anxious to fail at the challenge I set myself: Read 50 Books in 2015. So far I'm at 39, but with October, November and December probably being the busiest months of my year, I could get into a reading slump - and hurry towards the new year.
Funny enough, this reading that I love so much has gotten me into the worst rush I've ever experienced.
Read more, know more, write more, be a better writer, enlarge my English vocabulary, along with my other acitivities being sports, volleyball, learning Spanish, taking pictures, watching series, studying magazines, working, meeting friends. I wanted it all. There's no mistake in being ambitious. Yet I had to realize that wanting it all at the same time was an overambition far from reality.
With social media constantly shuffling off new information upon us - and ninety percent of it being absolute garbage - being in the picture about what's going on and also doing our own bit for the never-ending news float, became a top priority for us, especially when working in an internet-dependent sector (which sadly applies to almost every job nowadays because the www haunts us everywhere). We put ourselves under unnecessary pressure. Pressure we've created ourselves.  I am no exception. If others manage to deal with everything, why shouldn't we? Since we don't want to admit that we're overchallenged, we go with the flow. No matter how much time and energy it sucks up.

One of my favourite YouTubers has changed her channel completely. Beginning with her banner, ending with the way she speaks to her audience in videos. I don't recognize her anymore. What I would've labelled as her distinctive features that made her stand out of the crowd is all gone.
I'll spare her name because I don't want to talk about her in particular but about every one of us who finds themselves in the situation of being expected to share new content, to create new inspiration and collect new ideas on a weekly - if not daily - basis.
YouTubers, Bloggers, Journalists, Freelancer, Photographers, Editors, Programmers, Software Technicians, etc. etc. etc., we're all meant to deliver. Perfectly. Without a risk of not meeting our expectations and disappointing the hopes of others. Like a machine. Like we could never use a time-out. We could. But we won't allow ourselves to take some time off. In the meanwhile, there could be someone better, someone more creative, someone faster, stronger, more inspiring appearing on the surface who could push us to the edge. Turn us into a meaningless individual that's lost the fight in trying to prove their importance for society.

Being a blogger, I find myself being demotivated reading about topics I myself have also thought off, but never knew how to put them into words. If I had found a way, could I have written the better post? Would I have attracted more readers? Could I have grown my blog? No matter the work one does, everyone is longing for their piece of the cake, their little share of recognition. I do. Feedback is an important part of what keeps me going, what keeps me writing.
But integrity is another major one. If my hands don't start moving automatically on the keyboard, I close Blogger and maybe try again the next day. Why should anyone else feel the need to read my writing, if I don't feel strong enough about it to even begin with it?

Do you ever check how many likes your new post on Instagram got? Do you ever wonder which outfit, place, tags could get you most? Do you ever plan on taking pictures for Instagram?
Sometimes I do. And then I stop myself in the middle of pressing my thumb on the camera symbol because I remember this word. Integrity. For me, when the planning starts and spontaneity gets missing, there has to be a halt. Possibly that's why I haven't been blogging anymore, why I've stopped writing in my diary, why I've stopped writing in general. Why I've stopped taking pictures, up until August. I don't want to let my passion feel like a duty. It would only become one. If I don't have anything to say, so be it. And if I do, if there might be three posts in a week in the future, that'd be fine, too.

Chapeau to all of you out there who own their money on these platforms and generate content each week, at set times, never ending, never not filling your space in the information chain. I respect that as long as the content is still you. But I can't do that. My inspiration supply is limited. Which is why I only post on here, on Instagram, whereever else, knowing, that I'm sharing for a reason. And the reason not being for the sake of sharing.