In the last few weeks, I have had a feeling that before starting a new text, I ask myself what to write.
I do not know what is happening. Perhaps I do not have a good period for writing. I am only human, not a writing machine. The truth is that I feel that during the last time I had a lack of inspiration many times. I do not know where it comes from and what’s hidden behind it. I must simply accept that I cannot write anything profound daily. Am I sad? Yes, a little bit. The truth is that I would like to provide many great ideas daily, but now I see I do not have enough capabilities/resources to do it. That’s the way it is, and I must simply accept it, because without it, I would simply get crazy. I am not another Fyodor Dostoyevsky or Stanisław Lem, unfortunately.
I often ask myself what to write, and this question often resonates in my mind.
I wish to be inspired by the unearthly, eternal powers of wisdom each day, but I would say it is rather a science-fictional attitude to life. Also, I am not an AI shitting texts out of nowhere. In general, when I read a text written by Artificial Intelligence, I do not read it. I do not want it. I believe in the power of the mind, even if this power oftentimes seems weak, as I feel it today. Luckily, I still have the power to walk. For example, today (I wrote this text on the 21st of February, 2026), I walked over 10k steps with a rucksack weighing 33 kg (73 lbs) and took over 120 pictures. I love walking and doing street photography. Also, I love writing, even though I sometimes do not have anything special to communicate, like today.
