Of all the things I've lost...I miss my mind the most

When did you fight a losing battle last? When did you do something last, knowing fully well that you had no hope in hell to crack it half as good as the best in business? Honestly? I don’t remember.We are taught to be good from our childhood... if you can hold a tune – sing; If you can draw a crow that doesn’t look like a kite – paint! for you seem to have some hope. Till you grow up. As, somehow, the options seem to dwindle as years add up on your side. The harmonium goes first of all...gathering dust above the almari. Then the paintbrushes end up being used to clean cobwebs on a Sunday. And finally you end up being good at something that means nothing to you. And, you don’t care anymore, for the knowledge that you do it good stands above doing what you enjoy.I have been fortunate. I wanted to be a journalist since I was fourteen. Well, before that I wanted to be, among other things, a private detective, a traffic-policemen and an actor, but journalist was the first secure enough option I gave myself. Though, my father breathed again only after I got my first job.I’ve done reasonably well since, I’d suppose; or found options fast enough. But the one thing that I could not give up is writing. Or reading. Or at least missing both, when I didn't have time. I miss not having time to read as much as I would want to. Most of what I manage to read is literature on finance – something that pertains to my work directly, and to be honest, I do quite enjoy as well. But what about all the travelogues I fail to read anymore? the anecdotes and autobiographies? short stories?I miss reading them, and I miss thinking about them. Oh, the joy of feeling enriched after you’ve been mesmerised by a master-craftsman who takes you in a journey with her while she is putting her thought in words. Literally. Thoughts-in-words. It doesn’t even have to be a classic. I go thorough http://55-words.blogspot.com/ as often as I find time. Why am I denied such clarity of thought? 55 words is all you have. And at least ten percent of these creations are mind-blowing. Or a dead blog I come across every once in a while, that takes my breath away. I take an hour and the archives have been rampaged; why did they stop writing... I wonder as I pine for more, all the time secretly wishing I could write as well.But as I go through all my archives, I clearly see the learning curve has gone flat. I’m learning new words, but my thoughts don’t get any more lucid.Where’s this journey going to end?