I haven’t been able to write much lately, myself. I just sit
here, thinking about writing, but there’s something stopping me from actually
taking that leap and putting words on the screen. Something, hidden in the
shadows of my mind, that keeps me from spilling my thoughts out, because I’m
afraid that I might actually see it. I won’t be able to ignore it anymore. I’ll
be forced to stare at it, and it’s just something that I don’t think I’m ready
for. Is it the silence of the whole thing? I try to distract myself with music,
or maybe by letting The Office play in the background, but that takes away any
ambition I had to write in the first place. If I want to start creating again, I’m going to have
to face whatever that thing is. I can’t be afraid anymore. I have
to confront it, and use it to make something beautiful.
I catch glimpses of it, poetically stringing words
together in everyday conversations, and even texting, but I can’t seem to write
about my characters. Even when I have free time, I just sit and stare at my laptop,
which I’d just have to open to start writing, but I can’t bring myself to do that. Just the action of lifting the screen and getting started becomes daunting. When I do finally open it, I float around the net, browsing Facebook posts,
reading up on news. Don’t get me wrong; I constantly have the urge to write,
whether it’s about something inspiring or depressing, but I’m always afraid
that I’ll end up in a darker place, where being able to tell a story is the least of my concern. I’m afraid that I’ll be trapped in that
dark place till the wee hours of the night, or that I’ll uncover something that
I didn’t want to know, or even that I’ll create some sort of monster in my
head. The problem with my inspiration is, I want not only to delve into a character, but into an emotion. I want to
explore it, define it, personify it. But when your emotions are like mine,
that’s a scary thought. Sure, it can start out constructively, but you’re soon finding yourself into
something else entirely. When the darkness is there, you always seem to find a way
around to it.
I’m tired of using that excuse, though. I feel the need to
create, and I want to exploit that need, even if that means I have to make
something darker, or be someone darker. Even if I have to start writing about why I can't write. Because I need to feel like I’m doing
something, or this feeling that I’m being left behind is only going to grow.
Everyone’s graduated on to bigger and better things, but I’m still stuck here. Writing
is all I have. People can go on about looks or manners, but writing is
the only thing that makes me feel like I’ve got worth. Telling these stories is what’s going
to take me to the places that I want to go. Writing is what makes me happy, and
not even something scary, dark, and unknown should keep me from that.
