A short life and a pile of papers

I have pages upon pages of short stories, lyrics, thoughts and feelings written down. On pieces of papers scattered throughout my bedroom. On my computers.

Throughout my twenties I have attempted a lot of hobbies. I recently realized that the only one—except fiddling around with computers and playing guitar—that has stuck around is writing. It comes to me naturally to just start typing or writing whenever I feel empty inside or when something huge wants to come out.

This realization made me think that it's probably better for me to focus on the hobbies that come naturally by having the tools around to do them. If it's painting or drawing, I'll have those tools around me. If it's playing music, I'll have my instruments at hand. I'll surround myself with the stuff I need in order to spontaneously do the things I might like.

If I surround myself with these things without anything happening, I will not attempt to force it anymore. Life is too short for that.