Blank Space

I'm staring at a blank page of my little pink notebook, with my pink pen poised to record a masterpiece, but my mind is as blank as the paper. How poetic. Not. >_<

Gif from Tumblr.

Technically, this paper isn't all blank because it's lined. That makes all the difference, right? It's ready to be written on, just like my mind is ready to start writing. All I need is something to write about, something to inspire me, something to help me ignore the crushing weight of depression that keeps bringing me lower and lower and lower...

Michelle Phan's new book came out a few months ago. It's awesome and helpful, and I love it. Part of me feels so inspired. After all, Michelle Phan is the reason I started writing a blog in the first place, as well as the reason I started wearing makeup in the first place. She's gotten so much success doing what she loves, and part of me feels like if she can accomplish all that, then I should be able to do what I love.

The other part of me wonders that if Michelle Phan and John Green and Melissa Marr and Richelle Mead and Neil Gaiman and Lily Schwartz and all the other people out there (mostly writers) that I love and admire can find succeess, then there's no room for me. They've already accomplished everything first and done it better than I could. And with all these other, better people out there, how could anyone even notice me?

Probably cuz all I do is bitch and moan and  go on hiatus and then complain about my depression, the nasty part of me comments.

Yes, well, everything I ever do to try to escape depression inevitably backfires. Remember the last few months? Remember all of October? I reply to myself, ignoring how crazy a discussion this is.

Furthermore, it's become increasingly clear to me lately that I need a better source of income, but there is nothing I would rather do than write.

Yet if that's the case, then why can't I?

Oh look, I say to myself sarcastically. I've filled up the blank-except-for-blue-lines page, along with a few more pages in this little notebook, with meaningless scribbles no-one will ever bother to read.

Ah, yes, I reply with a little shrug, but at least I've written something, which is more than I can say for the scene in my book that I've been stuck on. Meaningless rambles are always better than a blank space.

Gif from www.popsugar.com

XOXO

Gossip Ghoul