Nocturne #33 – My Computer Mocks Me
Envying my past self – the broke but driven artist. Now, time escapes, energy drains, and even the spiderwebs feel more creative than me. My computer asks: "Dude, what happened?" Can I escape this routine and feel that fire again, or is it too late?
Today I was rummaging through my computer’s archive, hoping to find some lost file, and accidentally stumbled upon the digital footprint of my old “self.” Photoshop files, unfinished music projects, some strange 3D models… It felt like looking through the Instagram “Drafts” of my past version. The type who clearly spent more time in creative chaos than worrying about bills.
And suddenly – bam! – a moment of envy. I envy that old Zura. Yes, back then I didn’t have a decent computer, no studio, no money (well, almost nothing has changed), but that guy had time, energy, and some kind of audacious drive. It was as if he was on a 24/7 creative energy drink. Now? Now my “creative battery” is constantly at 15%, and I’ve lost the charger somewhere. Time control? My time control is about as successful as herding cats. Routine has sucked me in like another Netflix series – you know you should get up, but you start one more episode. Inspiration? Yeah, it comes sometimes, but it feels like it lands in the “spam” folder, and by the time I see it, it’s already expired.
I really miss that feeling when the brain switched into “Flow” mode and hours passed like minutes. That moment when you catch a new melody, take a great shot, or when a character comes to life on its own while writing. Now, such moments are as rare as an honest politician. It’s like I used to have wings, and now… well, maybe not wings, but at least I had a better Wi-Fi signal in my brain. Now I just sit and look up, but I’m staring at the ceiling, wondering if I should sweep away the spiderweb, but I feel sorry for the spider…
I don’t want that old Zura to remain just a memory, some “Throwback Thursday” post. I want to feel that drive again, dive back into those worlds where Ctrl+Z doesn’t exist and where the only deadline is your own imagination.
Even my computer, I think, is mocking me. When I open old files, it’s as if it’s saying: “Dude, you used to do much more interesting things, now you just check emails”.
But I hope (or maybe I’m just consoling myself) that the time, mood, and, most importantly, a free evening will come again when I’ll dare to open that project again. When I’ll play, write, draw again. Because ultimately, no matter what happens, this is still me… I just need a little update.