showbiz // phan

A Little Note to End With

A Little Note to End With // Author's Note, Pt. II

Probably going to be darker than it should be, but I gotta explain myself, as always.

So here we go, here you have a short explanation as to why I wrote this story.

I don't know if you liked Showbiz or not, of course I hope you did, but if you didn't I'm fine with it too. Because I didn't really write this for anyone else but myself.

I'm gonna be honest. I've been struggling a lot lately. And I'm not just talking about writing, it was just... everything. In a way. My life seemed to consist of nothing else but constant struggles, there seemed to be nothing enjoyable and easy, apart from some short moments of happiness, some moments in which I could forget.

I just feel like I'm not going anywhere. I see all of my friends having plans about what they wanna do after school, and then they ask me about my plans and my future and I will just say, "Oh, I don't really know, maybe something related to media, but who knows."

And I always get the same answer. "Oh, that's fine, you have more than enough time to decide on what you wanna do." That's kinda how I relate to Phil in this story, by the way. Yeah, sure, I have my dreams, but people never take me seriously, telling me I "still have time to overthink everything".

No, I fucking don't. I'm graduating next year. I'm not really talented in any way, and most things I enjoy doing are things that probably won't get me anywhere. I'm not J.K. Rowling, I'm not Eddie Redmayne and I'm not freaking Dan Howell. I'm not good enough at the things I enjoy doing to actually make a living instead of ending up in a cardboard box (Even though that one box on our attic could be pretty comfortable if I cover it with some blankets, not gonna lie).

So well, that was struggle numero uno. Facing the fact that no matter what I do, it probably won't get me anywhere. Why can't I just fucking enjoy maths and study business & management or something like that?! Ugh.

Oh, and then there were things happening in school. Then things happened between me and my family. Then things happened between me and my friends. Then things happened between me and my boyfriend. Things happened to me. And I just... lost it. I lost my will to do anything because it just seemed so fucking pointless. Yay, depression is fun.

I wasn't suicidal at any point, funnily enough death is what I'm scared of the most, but I was at a point where I was ready to give up on everything. I planned on dropping out of school, one year before graduation, I planned on giving up on my dream of studying abroad (which I wanted ever since I was twelve whoops), I planned on never leaving my fucking hometown that I always low key hated, that I still hate, just because I thought there wouldn't be a point in leaving.

Whenever I was in one of those moods, I would come back to writing this. I know this story doesn't really seem too sad (I guess?), but it helped me to get back up. It helped me to get away from my struggles.

But that's not why I wrote this. I might as well could've continued writing one of my other stories, Fashion Blogger, Holding on to You or whatnot. But I felt as if I had forgotten how to write?

So I needed something to get back to writing, because honestly, with me losing my will to live on this fucking planet, I also lost my will and inspiration to write.