I complain a lot. To God, my wife, my daughters, to anyone who listens or even doesn’t. Most of my complaints are about the sheer lack of self-fulfilment which comes about partially through the sheer wastage of time that occurs because I’m in complain mode. I could be writing, composing, initiating contacts with people I need to, doing sound; but I can’t. I’m too scared to start anything. And when I do it feels like it all just peters out into that drip of nothing.
So I’m starting something now. Just trying to write a bit everyday. We’ll see how soon it peters out. Don’t hold your breath.