An Honest Post

Written by VardenMFrias on 6. July 2018 00:02 o'clock

    

Sometimes writing really sucks. This past week I've been dealing with insurmountable bouts of writer's block which is rare for me. When I write, often I find that even if I start with crap that I will continue on until something good comes along. Now, I've chickened out and can't even start. I fear the consequences of the written word. Will this be good enough for my existing fans? Will it be good enough for me? Instead of losing myself in the process and having fun, I'm delving into something sick and making it feel like this is the most important thing on earth and never let it be itself. As quirky and different as I can make it. These past few months, or years maybe, I've been on autopilot waiting for a beautiful story to come to yank me off my feet and carry me away on its Thunderbird wings off to some distant land filled with inspiration. But I'm left here, trying to rake gems out of the grime. 

It's time I stop that and write something straight out of my gut, no matter how stupid it sounds. What I need to do is sit down at my computer right this moment (or perhaps when this rant is properly finished and published) and type away whatever comes to mind. Perhaps something good will come of it and maybe I will become a better, more open-minded person for it, but the way I see it I am not making much progress with the way things are going now. 

As I'm writing this, I feel the freedom sprouting again. My wings caught on the invisible winds and the thermals across this deserted landscape of the doldrums. In the future, I'll ride off into the sunset with my steed of inspiration and no longer judge whatever comes out of me. I'll have fun again. It was a promise I made to myself as a child, to have fun with the whole act of it, but lately, I've been treating the whole gig like a job. It's not a job, plain and simple, but a madness that I can manipulate to pay the bills once in a while. In order for the madness to reign supreme, you got to surrender. You can't have madness without a little bit of surrender. 

Now, I surrender. Now, I return to the madness. Hopefully, it will swallow me whole. 

Comments

Yes. Although writing is cruel, however, I still love it. I'm attached to it in a way that I'm not attached to anything else. It's become such an integral part of me that I endure the madness because I know it's worth it in the end. 
Writing is a cruel mistress. Sometimes cold and harsh. Sometimes warm and vibrant. And can be everything in between. Writing can consume us, wither us to the bone. Or it can lift us to heights unimaginable. It is our heart and saturates our souls. It commands us to free it from the prison that is our mind, but yet it demands its freedom on its terms. Writing seldom relinquishes its hold over us and chooses to walk a path parallel our own.