Daily Post Challenge

I often like to stumble. When so engaged, I often stumble upon articles about writing. I usually read these articles because I like to fancy myself a writer, which is at best premature considering that, not only have I never been published, but I've never brought a single piece of work to fruition. Part of me would like to elaborate upon my impotence, but this is not suppose to be a rant.
What I'm getting at is a recurring piece of writing advice that has always struck me as being key: write everyday, no matter what. I've been meaning to make this a personal vendetta for an embarrassing amount of time now, but tonight I think I'll own it. It's become clear to me that my time as an individual might be very brief, and since I'm damned terrible at 'enjoying' my allotted existence, I might as well spend it like those prehistoric cavemen from the natural history museums: etching my consciousness onto a time-resistant medium.

I like to write. I fantasize about it regularly. But for years I've experienced fierce internal resistance. Some terrible combination of ineptitude and perfectionism has made the act of actually sitting down and giving form to my thoughts an excruciating experience. It's really not until this moment that I've been able to come to terms with the limitations of my talent. There's little I can do about my skill set, other than practice, of course (bleh). The pride however, can be more easily calibrated. What, after all, is more detrimental to a writer's hubris than poor work? And since my intrinsic capacity prevents me from producing any alternative, I'm guaranteed to succeed :)

Liberated by the abolition of standards, I present the following:

It took me an hour to write this much. I'm afraid to spend too much more time on a single post, let alone the first of my 'Daily Post Challenge' because I don't want to set the bar too high, lest I intimidate Future Me and sabotage this whole project. I will try to briefly touch on the source of my midnight restlessness. It's the same inspiration that last drove me to the keyboard a few months ago (that post was never published): emotional turmoil.

I am not comfortable with emotion. It doesn't mesh well with my core values or my sense of self. However, I am by no means impervious. For the last 4 or 5 months I've been navigating a rather drawn-out 'breakup'. As far as these things go, I don't feel this to be a particularly dramatic affair. It is however, my first official 'breakup'; and I'm finding it less-than-invigorating.

Aside from the loneliness, which honestly I don't find all that foreign, I think the most disorienting aspect of the separation process is the ego-blow. I never realized how vain I was until I witnessed someone with whom I had shared a not-insignificant portion of my soul enjoying their life despite my absence. Throughout the course of the relationship I had imagined myself the progressive, self-affirmed independent; calling the shots and breaking hearts. And yet here I am agonizing over unreciprocated texts and creeping on facebook. What happened?

I know it's just a phase, a temporary product of change, and maybe I'm exaggerating slightly for irony's sake; but I don't rightly know how to express the uneasiness I feel. The loss of confidence.

I'm running over two hours. At least I can thank my emotions for this post. And this project. Tomorrow Me, you're up.