crypticallyobscure

i wish you all a new year of peace, growth, and progress. ღ

crypticallyobscure

hi, Wattpad. ٩(ˊ〇ˋ″)و
          
          after a great, grand ordeal and a likely questionable future for much of the foreseeable future, i dared myself to defy my endless indecision. i changed my mind once more. yes. once more. again—as you do.
          
          i will publish something. 
          
          …
          
          eventually. 
          
          i have felt empty since the dawn of this year. after distress and devastation struck, this cosmic void grew too large for me to dismiss. few of my plans for the future, nor my desire to actualize them, have survived the ravages of time this year—and, as the days grow slower and longer, the heat and the pain threaten to consume my profound desire for the life of vision and purpose that i have never lived. lest i succumb to such crisis as the idealization of my eventual oblivion and existence as a mere memory, as i have for years, i have felt the need to grow nearer to my lifeline when i was 7; when i was 14; when i was 17. 
          
          the pen. 
          
          how you and i differ is that you likely have a much firmer hand and an even sharper mind than i. in for a penny; in for a pound. right, beauty? well, not i. the razor’s edge of this brain only cuts. if ever she was once struck by flint and lit fires, i must have starved them of their oxygen. she doesn’t carve monuments.
          
          for now. the pyrotechnics when she bursts alive is a wildfire that parts the seas of the forests and renews the earth. 
          
          and me. 
          
          i wish you ease and endless love. enjoy yourselves and stay safe, comfortable, healthy and rich in ideas, intention and grace. amid great moral decay and seizures of peace, autonomy and sovereignty, worldwide, the most radical act of defiance today is to live well—in the richest, most complete extent of ourselves.
          
          shall we all be renewed and reaffirmed—and discover more reasons to be. not only today, but everyday.
          
          see you around? 
          
          m

crypticallyobscure

hi, Wattpad. i come to thee with few ideas and even fewer of substance. alas, the global pandemic . . . is this Great Scourge of my mental health, but i would lie if life in general weren’t for a long time now. 
          
          i decided against publication of a long opus a long while ago. i learned that the stage of Wattpad is better suited to a short story or two, lest the eyes of one’s audience glints with something inert and they soon leave the room. however, i couldn’t publish a thing at all onto this platform without agonizing about 6, 18 or 3,000 views and little to no measurable reception. too often do i feel sorry for authors whose oeuvre has no base, no longer has a base . . . or which has a base, whose inaction and silence is palpable. what could be the least severe incarnation of this pain? why care . . . when the pain continues anyway? 
          
          i’m a coward, you say. the vast majority of published authors were rejected by the Big Four. “J. K. Rowling was rejected 20 times,” you scream; “and you’re scared of a bunch of teenaged readers high off cheap thrills, who know well and good that few of the books they’re readin’ are written well. how dare you.” 
          
          and i will say . . . yes. 
          
          i feel that the oeuvre that i invest my all in deserves more than Wattpad and its audience, but then, i invest my all in all that i write. don’t we all? judge not, that ye may not be judged . . . but while not everyone writes well on Wattpad, everyone has this Great Idea, however unmet their idea is in the end. the mental labor required in the discovery, execution and realization of this idea, in addition to mining for rich lodes of gold to invest in the discovery, execution and realization . . . is not worthy of Wattpad or its audience. at least i think not. 

crypticallyobscure

i’m arrogant, you say. “you’ll return tomorrow, you old hag of a little girl,” you roar. “you’re too big for your britches. as if your work is worthy of even pig iron—”
            
            “sure,” i say. who knows what fate will bring? Wattpad and i have forsaken one another, but might we return to each other, in love more than ever before . . .
            
            insert a sound effect for a scratching record here.
            
            anyway, i apologize for the monologue. i might indeed write a short story or two for Wattpad. only the Lord knows for now if i will in the foreseeable future. 
            
            hope for the best and expect the worst. 
            bon voyage.
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