Reaching the End of the World

Well written, just my style! Hope you update soon! Support the author!

Looking back on my past self, I find it both laughable and naive, yet something I yearn for. I've probably truly lost my initial passion. Perhaps I'll never be able to write like this again. Thinking of this, I can't help but shed tears. The summer vacation that has passed is like my lost youth. Years have passed, and I'm still the same person, only now covered in grime, like walking through a swamp. I realize once again that I've lost even more than before. In the years that followed, I tried writing books, but struggled to make progress, feeling like I was bound by endless chains. My writing became tasteless, and I kept rewriting and re-editing, but ultimately, I couldn't satisfy anyone. Today, it's the same. Thinking back to the books I wrote before, I returned with curiosity to investigate. Although there was some arrogance, there was something I lacked—confidence. I no longer enjoy what I write. I'm busy but don't know what I'm doing. I've lost my initial motivation. What was the point of writing books in the first place? I had this idea in my mind: to write a masterpiece. But I was caught in a constant mental struggle and became afraid to write. After reading this, I understood something else: it doesn't matter if it's good or bad, as long as I keep writing. What if no one reads it? What if I get criticized? Don't I love novels? Anyway, everyone needs to vent their emotions sometimes, so I'll take up this book review section for a bit. I apologize for listening to my rambling, but I sincerely hope I can overcome this and be able to sit in front of the computer again, happily crafting my own stories.