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Farewell, and Thanks for Coming In! | [Retired]

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You Can Keep Going · 4:32am July 7th

I often think about the times when I had nothing. No blood for the heart to pump; no feelings except the feeling of their absence. I was convinced that everything was over. That no added effort or improvement could change a thing. In the currency of raising prices and smaller paychecks, that feeling is becoming more prevalent for all.

It's hard to keep hopeful. Difficult to have a good head on your shoulders when all you have inside your skull is a stone that bounces around. In the middle of my writing career—if I'm allowed to call it that—I looked to the example of the past to copy after.

Carry a voice like Harlan Ellison!

Write as much as Isaac Asimov!

Be witty like Hawkeye!

Have a prose like Skirts!

You look to the past for assurance on how things ought to be done. What proven ways of success are there to be replicated. I don't mean success in views, likes, pleasant reviews, or the acquisition of payments. I mean success in the fashion that, after the writer has read their words, they feel them to be good.

That, if you write like so and so, it creates the path and the fashion for you to discharge whatever you have within. You have something you want to write. But you don't know how to write it. You read the works of people you admire because you admire them for a reason. You want to do what they do except in your fashion. But since you have no set manner about you, everything is in the air, and whatever you type could be good, bad, or confusing. There are no certainties in following your intuition.

I always sought to write like someone else because I could be assured that, at the very least, I would be getting something right with my writing. After a while, the effort and memory to copy someone else's style's style becomes too troublesome. You fall back into intuition one way or another.

I've been listening to Creavity Inc by the folks at Pixar. It's a great book with wonderful pointers. It states that every problem is unique. You cannot look to maximums or mottos for absolution. You cannot look to the past for answers to your current issues. Those problems are spawns of you.

The book lays heavy accountability on the writer themselves. To look at the problem, address and diagnosis it and try to fix it. To fail and fail and fail and not look at it to mean that you are a failure but as someone in the process of trial and error.

All of this seems obvious. But when one does not feel they are a good writer, something about them, or how they have gone about writing, has caused them not to be a good writer. They've already thrown themselves on the page and proven their initial state doesn't have the talent. They look beyond themselves to find something to emulate.

There is nothing wrong with looking to others for information or possible means to overcome problems with your characters, dialogue, story, or prose. But you have to accept yourself as a writer, creative, or whatever title you would like to assign to yourself. That you are worthy of being one.

Do not consider yourself an imposter or an outsider. Your lack of belief may save you from the sting of this is all your effort has to show? But it denies you from taking full responsibility, and thus, the complete effort to try, fail, recover, asses, reattempt, and follow that unending process.


The more you uncover what something isn't, the more you discover what it is. Removing a piece or matching it to another serves the same purpose. They better reveal the picture you're building. Both are productive moves, even if it does not feel that way. Take a moment to be kind, step back, and assess overall.

Believe you are a writer and that you have something to bring to the table. Everyone, in living a life, has something to say. Even those without opinions can walk out of a movie, rave, and rant with words fitting perfectly together. Your works don't have to be big or small, grand or minute. They just have to be yours.

When I think of a goal of an artist, it is that they are struck by a thing, which is to be uncovered, fleshed out, and worked upon. They reveal the fossils and reattach flesh to the dinosaur. They try things on and take it right back off. They pace around the piece and contemplate random things, of which, all will prove meritable if given enough time.

An artist uncovers, develops, refines, and then completes a piece taken from inside of them. I have a story in writing that is strange and weird and matches nothing I know of good stories. It doesn't have that weight to its world that I've read in my favourite romances. Doesn't have that element they all share.

I've always felt shame in that regard of not matching those stories. I'll never ascend to their ranks—and it is as it should be. My goal is to write the story as it demands to be written. To flesh it out to its proper form. To allow it to be that strangely-shaped jewel of dulled emerald.

I've been depressed today. I thought about Life Percentage. A little percentage that floats over your head, 62%, reveals how much you have left. I didn't like having that thought. Or that I never became the sort of person or writer I desired to be.

You cannot impress some people in this life regardless of your greatest efforts. That will sting worse and worse. You have to let go of those things. One must focus on what is possible and waiting before them. Impress yourself. That will always lead to better results.

You can always keep going.

The friends and family that made your life could be absent today. The parties and times that shined your eyes and golden light might be a relic of the past. Your week could be a grind o, work,d work and return and sleep. But it's not too late. You can keep going.

Even though nothing matters: you can keep going.

Even if, halfway through the chapter, you realize it to be shit: you can keep going.

Even this blog is shitty and self-fisting: you can keep going.

Most of the merit in my life has left. There is nothing that makes it feel special. I do not feel like I'm progressing in any meaningufil way and, with how things are now, it's doubtful there will be improvements.

I doubt I will be an artist able to express the depictions of my minds eye.

I doubt I will be a writer that produces proper works.

I doubt I will ever win the affection of those I admire

I doubt I will ever be anyone at wall except someone that as to try at all times.

But I can keep going anyway. I can keep doing my best anyway. Because it doesn't matter in the end. All these efforts could crumble and these words can mean nothing. This could be my last blog because a truck strikes me tomorrow. Some people will comment. Few will remember me. Then this page will be vacant.

I don't like how Soul Sister's story ended before it was finished. I don't like how things stand with her now. I don't like how people moved on or the lack of attention or interaction or how there's nothing to do with her anymore. She is a shining golden grain of rice inside my mind. Someone so distant because I haven't taken the time to read our messages.

It feels like the last person to understand me as a full human went away a long time ago. I am but a machine now, something that does its best to operate in the ways it should, completing its functions until it's unable. In spite of that: I keep going.

Because you never know.

And because, if you were to stop, what is there to do?

Do well with yourselves. Ensure you balance your life. Make sure you have people that care enough about you… that you feel like a unqiue person. I was shunted by my family. My flaws are mine to own. I cannot blame another for them.

But there is nothing wrong with understanding the source of some of your problems. You need to find good people in this life. They are out there, and sometimes they emerge in unexpected ways. Remember that you must give to receive. You must be a good friend to have a good friend. You must give love to have love returned. Be what you are craving, and you will receive what you are deserving.

Please do not write comments asking if I'm okay.

The concern is appreciated, but such things do not help.

Read these words for the message and not due to the person behind them. I don't care about being remembered. This world has assured me that the different me and me don't count for much. All I can hope is to be the letter in the bottle that helps another. That something in the words are helpful in their own right.

I'm going to keep going until the end. I will keep trying my best even if nothing but scribbled pages in my stumbled-footsteps. I couldn't be what I wanted to see myself as. It was foolish to be another thing all together. You cannot expect to copy another and hope for success inside of that. You are you. Your problems are yours. Be enough of yourself to attempt to solve them.

And don't hit me with that Bruce Lee quote.

Don't lie.

I know you were tempted.

There is nothing wrong with being yourself, in writing like yourself, even if it is not as polished like the words of another. You aren't always expected to be smart or funny or on point. Let them emerge when they do. There is a time and a place to be happy, sad, funny, or depressed.

Just remember, after those periods have passed.

You can keep going.

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Comments ( 6 )
Barbarity #2 · July 7th · · 1 ·

If life has no meaning, then assign meaning to it. If nothing is special then build something worth being special.

At least, that's what I would say at the start of the day. These days I can't seem to do more than sleep my life away. I hate summers. Too depressing.

B_25 #3 · July 7th · · 1 ·

I forgot you enjoy the winter.

Hugs bro! :raritywink:
Just gonna say, my feelings on writing? I borrow all over the place when I see something I like. Do I feel like a fraud, a copy, a cheap knockoff. No, not really. If I am, then every damned culture in human history is too, they all borrowed what they liked from other cultures when they met them. And sometimes even didn't kill them. Humans, go figure. I don't feel that unique, so I will do it too, and it seems to keep me moving and happy with my efforts, for the most part. :twilightoops:
As for the swirling morass of life, man, I so get that. But i am glad you keep on moving. I won't throw the BL quote (though I do like it, fwiw). Quotes don't make the swill of life go away. But, as you noted, friends sure help a hella lot. I'm glad you have friends. :pinkiehappy:
Glad you are still here, and still trying. :twilightsmile:


Yeah. Too much sun is a bit of a downer for me, unlike most people.

H3lios #6 · July 8th · · 1 ·

Just going go leave this here…

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