1st April, 2024
what do i do with my pain? how do i channel all my suffering?
i write.
for the longest time, there was contempt in me. i thought that i had been putting so much work in my books, so much research, so much extra reading, so much psychology and logic and interconnectedness, and in the end - almost no-one read them. all my books have absurdly bad stats, even though my english is proficient, and there is meticulous character development, plot twists, drama, resolution, happy endings. also - there is the realistic and details sex scenes, which, to be honest, have never been an aim in itself for me; yet, the sad truth is that 99% of the people who read my stuff, read it because of the 18+ marking.
it was, it used to be so disheartening, so discouraging. but not any more.
i am actually grateful. i am grateful that not too many people read my journals of pain and suffering, because they reflect pieces of my soul. and my soul is all in tethers, mauled and bloody. hurting.
i think i would be scared if millions have read my stuff. i think i would be terrified to share my all-naked self with so many people. i think it's horrible.
and yet, the pain comes daily, and i have to make the best use of it. why? because it is absolutely all i have left. i am not claiming i can manage it. i am bad at managing anything, whatever. i am bad at writing too, despite my best efforts. i have no gift, the talent i so admire in others.
and for the longest time, for years, i considered giving it all up, deleting it all from the world. but then, when i'm gone, who's going to remember me? if anyone?
am i really trying to erase myself from people's memories and minds? am i brave enough to do this?
i think it would be an achievement, for real. i think i am not there yet, but i hope to be. one day.
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entry has been inspired by:
