Sometimes I feel unstoppable when I write and sometimes I feel weak as a sheep. I put my fingers to the keyboard and start pounding on the keys. However, eventually I realize that whatever I am writing is crap, pure and utter crap. It seems that most of the times I live in a fantasyland. I believe that my writing could inspire and touch many people all around the world. But I think that is just make believe. The candle burns bright in the corner of my room, but it seems to burn out, whenever I start to think that I could help change this world. I’m not talking about simple and mindless thinking. I am talking about things that have to do with one-self. Maybe individual kind of thinking? Then I try to figure out what my purpose is, why am I here and what should I be doing here. I watch movies like “Ask the Dust.” And get inspired to the core, but once the movie is finished, that is when I finish writing. Whenever I read people like Paulo Coelho, I get inspired to pick up his torch and add my own flavoring to the mix. But... I feel like I am not even close to his proximity. I need to give up. Why even bother. I tell myself, but it is something in my soul, keeps telling me too never stop. Something pushes me into a direction, where pushing ones limit is a necessity.
The only real reason I am here is to write. The ultimate truth to everything I think, observe and produce. Writing is embedded into my soul. I am a Writer and that is whom I want to be known as, when I die. Nevertheless, no matter how hard I try to produce something of value; it seems to be pure poop. Maybe it is because I am trying to hard. Maybe, I should let the flow of my fingers do the talking. I just cannot find satisfaction in anything... but when I write and produce, it just feels something of ordinary. Especially, when I get people telling me how much my writing touched their lives or their hearts.
I do not have many fans, nor do I have many people who read my writing, but the few who do, I would like to thank you sincerely from the bottom of my heart. Each of you inspires me to the fullest of my being.
I do not know where I am going with “this” writing. I am very confused with what I am trying to achieve. I want to inspire and help people. I want to touch people with my writing. However, my job is killing me slowly. I want to put my love and helping others into something more positive, then working in retail. I would like to work for a Non-Profit Org, but I feel that in order to do that, I would need to have a degree or know someone who works in that organization. If I could do that, I could put some of my energy into one part of good and another good part into the written word.
It seems the older I get, the more I am coming to terms of my style. My style is poetical/hip-hopish. There is not much room for grammar, nor is there room for punctuation. It is raw and it is real. I understand the importance of grammar and punctuation, but I feel the only way to communicate with people from all lifestyles, I need to break down the barriers of rules and let my soul speak to their soul.
I have made many mistakes trying to guide others. I cannot even guide myself, so why even try to guide anyone else. I must guide myself and then, if anyone finds my words appealing, they could use it for their own benefit. I must write from my experience and my surroundings. Why push if I am not ready. It is all about baby-steps. I must mold all of my words into one single word, love. A Word known by many other names. However, I must realize I give love to everyone who reads my writing. I converse with anyone who is willing to open his or her hearts to mine.
I must start from the beginning and look outwards. I have many things I am going through. However, I must and I repeat, must start from the beginning. The journey is better walked, if walked in a slow and steady pace. The beauty that you will see in that time will change your soul in many more ways then you or I could dream off.
