寫作停滯 | Travel Mama 蜜蜜遊

Writing Stagnation – Lately, I've found myself struggling to write; the quantity has decreased, and the quality is unsatisfactory. The constant explanation has been a busy work schedule and lack of time. In reality, this explanation has become a habit, almost an unconscious form of self-comfort. Whenever someone asks why my writing has stalled, I mechanically reply, "I'm just too busy."

Is being busy the real reason?

However, this is the most common explanation in Hong Kong, applicable to all questions. Strictly speaking, this explanation doesn't explain anything at all. It's like a fig leaf, covering up deeper issues: a lack of inspiration, a creative burnout, or dissatisfaction with current life. Yet, these issues are often harder to talk about and harder to face than simply being busy.

Until yesterday, the cause was finally discovered.

Yesterday I started reading Osamu Dazai's *No Longer Human*, and from the very first page, all sorts of themes and ideas poured over me like a torrential downpour, filling me with incredible excitement. This feeling, like rain after a long drought, suddenly made me realize that a lack of reading had left my mind so barren. Words and thoughts, it turns out, are so mutually reinforcing.

寫作停滯

The impact of lack of reading

Without reading, a part of my brain stopped functioning; naturally, I couldn't think of or do anything outside of eating, sleeping, and working. I began to reflect that not only had my reading habit disappeared, but it had also affected my writing inspiration and creativity. All sources of creativity seemed to gradually dry up in the days without books.

When was the last time I seriously read a book? I honestly can't remember, it must have been at least four months. From always having a book in my bag every day to not reading for four months without even realizing it, I feel like a completely different person. What happened in between? Was it the busyness of life, or some inexplicable resistance within me? This change is both subtle and profound, like gradually losing a part of myself without even realizing it.

This is another form of regression, just like evolution, happening silently. From this book, I felt like I found my lost self, the me who once loved words and creating. In any case, you probably can't envy this.