File under: "Things I Should Do But Probably Won't."

I have to start writing more.

No, let me rephrase that:

I have to start writing more of what I want.

At work, I've got my requisite daily allotment of articles that I need to churn out on an every-other-hourly basis. After researching, writing and editing these stories all day long, I don't have much creative steam left at the end of the day. In fact, I think I've lost my ability to manufacture anything even remotely resembling "creative steam" because the type of writing I do is entirely non-creative and more a matter of mass-production. ...Unless, of course, coming up with different words for "concert" and "tour" counts as being creative.

Example:
Trek, journey, jaunt, circuit, venture, outing, run.
Event, performance, show, gig, set, session, jam.

WHERE'S MY PULITZER?

(Please note: The requisite number of articles is entirely a figment of my imagination and product of the fact that I am a guilt-induced laborer who must complete a certain amount or level of work each day, no matter how long it takes, for no other reason than I Must. But I've repeated this number at work so frequently that it has become more fact than figment. And that number is "four to five," which is technically a range, but I'm not a technical person. Yes, I am. That was a lie.)

I want my passion back. More than that, I need to remember what my passion used to be, find out where it's locked itself away on this long-term sabbatical from my life, plead with it to come back to me ("I need you -- please!! Don't leave me! Can't you see what a mess I am without you?!"), and then torture it into submission until it is once again fast in my keeping.

That sounds kind of hot, actually.

But no, not that sort of submission. (Although...)

Once I get the "writing on a regular basis" thing down, the next thing to work on is "writing with a purpose." And then, "ending what I start." I like to think that I used to be somewhat adept at concluding things, but my whole life has become a bit open-ended. And, writing what I know (or as I know), my personal narratives have developed a tendency to drop off abruptly without underlying causation or overarching summation.

Maybe I can't rein in my writing until I also lasso in some of the straggling loose ends of my life... Naaaaah. Too difficult. That would probably require decisive action or at least some sort of conscious effort. Strike that. Instead --

Maybe my "style" should just become open-ended and subjective. Does that make me post-modern or a just lousy writer?