It’s one of those days when I ponder over my craft. The world knows me as a professional, ‘content writer.’ My friends and family know me as a bookworm who frequently writes her mind on topics that affect the world. The truth is, I’ve been afraid of writing — I’m afraid of bleeding my soul out to a world that may be unkind and unfair in its judgment of my work.
For long now, I’ve been itching to dig into that perfectly hidden layer of my life where I am writing my heart out and forming stories as I feel them. But I’ve been afraid to take that first step, even though I’ve been seeing beautiful stories unfold during my sleep at night. There are days when I wake up to seeing myself shed tears because the visions were so real, the feelings so profound that words could not be enough to communicate. I’ve been afraid to write a piece straight from the heart for I feared the pain of disapproval from no one else but myself. I’ve been afraid, so afraid, to write because I know when I write, I’ll bleed.
It’s truly a sensational statement to make but let me be real — some people write for the world, some bleed their soul out because there is no other way to give the soul the peace it craves. For people who write with mad passion, every word a reflection of their intensity, the world would never truly understand them. Who cares to read Sylvia Plath when Jane Austen is much more entertaining? Who cares to read Virginia Woolf when H.G Wells is so much more fascinating! Of course, these authors have created the greatest literature of all time, but there is a stark difference between the two — one bled her deepest, darkest thoughts while the other wrote for sheer amusement. Truly though, what is the art of writing if not for using words to give your deepest thoughts a physical form?
This is a piece written without any adherence to structured style or communication. There is no point to make, no approval to gain, no story to tell. It’s simply to narrate how true writing is all about putting your innermost being out on a paper and hoping that it can bring some sense of peace to a restless soul, that this desire to just write and accept your fears is one of the bravest things you can do for not everyone has the courage to give shape to their thoughts.
Today though, the feeling for me to truly write is too great to resist. It’s one of those days where I am willing to peel that hidden layer bit by bit, to spend hours finding the perfect words to give shape to my thoughts no matter how random. Today, with this post, I do not bother whether my writing makes sense, whether I’ve followed traditional writing rules or whether or not the audience approves. Today I write for myself and for the rare souls out there who have once dared to pen down their thoughts in forms of poetry and journals but who have yet to find the right moment to begin to write. To them, I’d say, write only when you’re ready to bleed, for writing is not for others but for the release of your own soul.
As I end this piece, a nagging voice tells me I’ve written sheer gibberish but it’s one of those days when my heart wants me to ignore conventions of modern wisdom and truly be honest with myself and the world at large. It’s alright I tell myself, this is the first step to many other steps I’ll take for my writing journey. World, wish me luck!
#literature #writing #artists #writers #randomthoughts
Rustic Muse 