So here I am again. And here you are blank word document. But you’re not blank anymore, so I win.
I’m not sure what I want to do with my life, so somewhere along the line I decided I wanted to be a writer. But in order to be a writer, I have to write. I have to never stop writing. But also reading. But also living. Writing is more then just sitting in front of this terrifying blank page, it’s also seeing how everyone else did it before you. It’s going out into the world and finding things to write about.
The prospect of chasing that desire is terrifying. Beyond terrifying, it’s actually paralysing. What do I have to write about?
What do I have to write about.
At the moment, I want to write about love. Love and tragedy, happiness, loss, life and everything. I want to write about men and women, and tell their stories and make them as real as I feel like they are. But where to begin? And how to begin? And once they’re out of my head will they ever truly be perfect? Will they ever be what I actually want them to be?
I don’t know. I have no way of knowing, unless I try.
It’s frightening, the thought of breaking out of this paralysis and find a way to creep on forward and make this idea, this fancy, into my reality.
I honestly don’t know what I want to do with my life. So far my strategy is kind of a process of elimination. Try everything, work out what you don’t like and then work on from there. But it’s taking too long.
I don’t want to disappoint other people, or disappoint myself, by failing to do this thing which I’ve told everyone I’m going to do. I want to reclaim what I had back in the early days of high school, when the stories flowed from my mind through to my fingers and I could almost almost keep up with them. When writing was absorbing, easy. When I wrote I was inhabiting these worlds I dreamt about. Why is that suddenly so much harder?
I blame myself, naturally. Namely, I blame the incredibly self-conscious, self aware state I seem to have fallen into. I can’t fall into my own world, because I’m constantly analysing that world, pulling it to pieces and pulling it apart.
This needs to change. In order to make the world in my head into a reality, this self awareness needs to stop.
But these words I’m writing now are part of the problem. Though this empty word document is slowly filling, it’s filling with nothing. Just drivel and excuses.
This is my manifesto. This is my declaration. I’ve had enough of wasting time.
It’s time for a new strategy. A new routine. Enough drifting and enough sadness.
From now on I am becoming the person I want to be. For real, in the most legitimate way I can. I want to become someone worthy of the person I will eventually love, and I refuse to believe I will never eventually love them. When they come along, not if, when, I will be ready for them. I will be worthy.
I want to be worthy of the people who seem to believe this is something I can do.
I want to feel like I’ve achieved something.
This is more then writing, this is more then about me. This is about growth, this is about life.
This is life, and it begins now.
So I declare.
I will eat better and exercise more. I will be strong and healthy and capable. Nothing will hold me back, especially not my body or my looks.
I will be deliberate in my intentions, and true.
I will be bothered.
I will be positive.
I will always always try and never ever stop.
This means at everything.
I will read. Every chance. I will make the time to read.
I will watch.
I will listen.
I will try with my own hands. I will create.
I will speak, and I will observe.
I will fail, and I will find other ways.
I will not be afraid, I will not doubt.
I will be passionate.
I will drink and laugh and I will have fun. I will make bad choices and I will make good choices. I will give generously and take what I need. I will ask for help. I will help others. I will remember my manners and never burn my bridges. I will be respectful to those who deserve it, and learn from those who don’t.
And above all, I will write. I will make time to write. I will never stop writing. This is not a diet, not a fad, not a phase, this is a life. My life. The life I want and the life I am fighting myself to have.
So goodbye laziness. Goodbye vanity. Goodbye doubt. Goodbye self-awareness. Goodbye excuses.