Why I Struggle To Write
But if I did that, I wouldn't be where I am today. And every morning I battle a thousand voices in this small chaotic slaughter of world. I have seen what the voices are capable of, I have seen the bodies of my creations sacrificed by their hands and displayed in the brutal execution of Blood Eagle. Strung up and pulled apart and hung for the vultures to feast upon as the voices cheer in victory. I have seen the voices raid my shores and tear me open. And it is a world I wish not to live in. It breathes lies, it wishes only the simple life, but simplicity comes with internal suffering. Don't believe me, ask someone who gave up on their dream and is living a simple life, working a job they hate more than themselves. Its torture, its soulful torture, its like every morning where you are waking up feeling as if the window has been open in the dead of a winters night and all you have is one blanket. No matter what you do, you cant get warm enough to enjoy life. And every morning, I have to fight against these voices that tell me to quit, that tell my I have nothing, that I am nothing. The constant snickering of small voices foaming at the mouth, salivating to take my soul. Some days they almost win, some days they drown in their own misery. I don't know what struggles you have to compete with, but I commend you for not stopping. These two worlds we have are constantly growing and shrinking and which ever one we listen to more, you are going to expand it, sending troops to conquer the other. Unfortunately it can only take a few small voices to change everything, just like it can take one rotten apple in a room to ruin them all. It just takes the one in charge to listen and take action to affect it all. Negative worlds are much easier to feel and share in the world. I think that is because we are all bound to face hardships and tragedies and so few actually dive into life to give themselves happiness. Which makes it difficult to relate to happiness. And unfortunately, too many are out in search for someone to agree with their pain so they can quit. And a hundred percent of the time, that person is themselves, but no one wants to be alone so they speak their foul thoughts onto others. Seeping their venom into others creations, thoughts, ideas, and worlds, selfishly trying to poison their water.
Constantly I am at battle between these two worlds, maybe no worse or no less than anyone else. But I have learned, that if I do not tend to my worlds correctly, if I do not intently water the gardens of my good, if I do not draw the shades open to my good. I will surely find myself lost to the dark seas of my weak. Writing is a beautiful passion of mine and I could not see myself without it anymore. My soul and my heart are always on the run to write, to find and build new ideas. But my world of destruction, is my body, which conspires all to often with my mind. My body quickly tires before my mind. But so easily can the body trick the mind if I do not give good reason to keep going. I must create great value in my writing, in my actions if I want to sustain my life, my passion. There is no easy way around it but to continually expand the good that lives within me. To continually feed my predator and and cut off the weak. To not let the rivers of passion run dry, the stars of imagination fade, nor the sun of love to explode. I struggle everyday to find the answer to keep going, sometimes it can be a simple laugh, a small idea, or even just a good read of a another's writing, of another's words to keep me going. I must maintain a watchful eye and a steady heart, and an ever learning mind. I must keep an open an ear to news lessons and kiss my wounds and move on. There are many small things I find to help push past the struggle to write and just as many to try and stop me. I am far from perfect and I fall many times and commune with my destroyer more than I would like to. But I am much better at passing through my world of destruction, than staying over night. Without the bad, we could not know good, without the broken, we could not know how to improve.
I cant lie, I am not a constant machine moving forward like a train, always on the right track, always writing, sometimes I break down and find myself lost. But keep an eye on my north star of my good world and follow it home. My writing is a journey for me and journeys never come without their lessons and struggles. Today was extremely tough to get out of bed. The voices were quite loud, but I managed to draw my shades open and blind the darkness that wakes long before I. Shadows follow us all, but we must not be frightened of them, for they are more frightened of us then we are them. They only grow darker if we draw our shades shut. And this morning my shades were close to being drawn shut. So many mental and physical distractions aim to stop me. The biggest one is this tiny voice that never rests, "whats the point, you haven't seen any success, just give up and go work for someone else? Kill your dream your thoughts have no weight in this world, no value you. You have failed yourself before and that still bares a scar upon you. Soon enough the world will know this, then what, what will you do then?"
Every single day that voice gnaws at my brain and pulls the nerves of my thoughts and tries to rip them from me and set them ablaze. Only to be swallowed by the shadows that feed on my suffering. I must always be ready for battle and the hardest one is inside of me. It will never go away and that I have learned well. But each battle I win, I grow stronger, and so does my passion along with me. One word at a time, one paragraph at a time, one page at at a time, one book at a time, that is how I win. My voices want me to sprint, but I am in a marathon for life, and I will not quit.
(If you are struggling with your passion or anything at all, do not quit. Life is waiting for you!)
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