sigh

I've this major writer's block after cap.
I've never been good at writing. Nor anything else. just medium average and if I ever come out in a top 10 or 3 list, I'm always the last of it.
Maybe I've been depending too much on content to hold everything up. I have no technique whatsoever. No bombastic vocabulary to fascinate the reader. my thinking is the most haphazard thing on planet earth. And since my memory is pretty screwed, I rarely recognize what I write before...
Self-doubt is the hardest part in striving for improvement. It's the usual doubt, then some shine of inspiration, and then back to wallowing in self-depression about how my writings do not give justice to the words (yes, I believe words have feelings). I do actually have nightmares because of the guilt.
when I went to the writing workshop, one thing I couldn't understand was the need for gory imagery or pretty stuff to fluff up the poem when it didn't make a point. But these kinda descriptions (with a mixture of rare vocabulary) tend to receive compliments.
What do I write for? I've never really stated it, but I actually do know it, at some teeny-weeny corner of my brain. I try to write (it's not up to mark at all) to document a filtered expression of philosophies and ideas which I have wrestled with. And to lead ppl in thinking in a different way.
Of which I have not accomplished, and may never do so.
I guess it's the restrictions I've placed on myself that is making things weird.
I shall never publish any english poem or story online again, and just ask Julia or Keith (tho he never gives much constructive stuff) for comments.
Focusing on the chinese story I'm writing for fun.
I should focus on my remaining holiday hw actually.
And hope that the holiday will pass quick. bro is randomly venting his frustrations and having mood swings. don't wanna clash with anybody
woots
-Loneshadows