Here's a piece I'm really proud of about my struggle with creative writing. Although creative writing used to be what I did best, for the past two years I've drifted away from it, feeling like I can't do it anymore. I don't know what it is, but I need my writing back, and I've decided I'm going to do whatever it takes to get it.
This gift I speak of, by the way, is of course hypothetical. I'm just using the word "gift" for a lack of a better word to describe it; I don't know what it is, but it's a perspective I'm so grateful for.
Here I go...
I'm
not sure that I will ever be able to indulge myself into a land of fantasies, at
least until I am civil with the state of reality. Every time I attempt, yet
again, to explore what one may call an imaginary world, I am forced to regard
reality as a mere spec. But without coping with the land of reality, a wall
obstructs my path into this world; a world I so desperately desire to gain
entry to.
Times
when I am ever so close to gaining full entry into this utopia, I seem to abuse
it when I'm about half of the way in. But in these moments it seems I have no
control; with all the thoughts from reality conquering the pure, fantasist
thoughts I attempt to have, I simply have no choice but to succumb to the nature
of these thoughts and give up.
Or,
should I feel hope, I may not surrender to these thoughts so fast; instead, I
may attempt to modify them and somewhat merge them with my thoughts as a
fantasist. But even then, I am still abusing its beauty—I should not engage in
the happenings of this utopia without being aligned with my realist self, for
that is the basis of a potential success in this fantasist world.
Then
again poses another problem: the problem of defining success. I rarely take the
time to contemplate the reality of succeeding in a realistic fashion; we all
have so many different ways of succeeding, making it seem that there cannot be
one key answer. Yet, so many of us have determined a clear-cut definition of
success, blurring the line that defines the separation between one’s version of
success and another’s version of success. In turn, this causes us to feel
pressured to conform to the set standard that society convinces us to comply
with in order to have the satisfactory feeling of success.
Obviously
societal expectations do take a large toll in my life, as it does in
everyone’s, but it seems that my ability to have an understanding of these
expectations is the saddest part of it all, considering that I have done
nothing about it. I feel I have a gift, one that not everyone has received; a
gift that gives me the ability to have an understanding of the greater concept
of the world. Again, I am faced with the problem of appreciating the gift and
using it, and just as with the entry to the fantastical world I strive to
immerse myself in, I abuse my understanding of this gift.
This
gift I have, which I feel is the key to my entry into this fantastical utopia,
repeatedly tells me that I must strip myself of all superficial feelings; that
I must not force myself into compliance with anyone else’s standards but my
own. But in a world where very few people can understand this concept, I am
unable to determine whether complying with the “rules” of this gift is
feasible.
With
that, it is not to say that there are not those who in contact with this deep
understanding of reality, an understanding I pride my entire existence on. I
pride myself on my ability to notice those who have the gift of this
understanding, and on my ability to take them in and make them feel welcome, no
matter how much they probably believe that I am not at this level of
understanding.
There
are others however, as I mentioned before, who are at this extreme level of
understanding, but are unable to view others who have such a similar, strong
ability. While I find that their existence is extremely unique, as is every,
but this to a much higher degree in my mind, I wish I could explain to them
that there are others with who pride themselves by the same morale and great
understanding that they do.
And
all of this is so essential to explain, for it plays a large role in the
explanation for the deterrence of my success in this fantasy. I have spent the
majority of my time trying to jump into a fantasy, when in fact it seems I may
have only been doing so in order to run away from these thoughts that haunt me
as I sit in reality.
What
I have realized, just by living a few years out of many to come, is that nature
of this fantasist world is not to serve as a replacement of reality. Instead,
it is meant to serve as an alternative—a temporary
alternative. Sure, it is an escape, a utopia even, but this fantasist world is
meant to be used to alleviate the pressure from, literally, the reality of
reality.
There
are some parallels between the two worlds, which convinces me that I am right
when I say it is not supposed to replace reality, because one needs to
understand one to understand the other. Both worlds expect one to better him or
herself; to be honest with him or herself no matter what he or she is doing.
It
is clear that no one is going to hand me, or anyone else, the keys to this
fantastical world, and I’ve realized from the parallels of the two that I have
to first learn to come to peace with the world I live in in order to move forward
into this world I wish to live in. It won’t be easy, but I must conquer my
fears if I ever want to get to this place that, if and when I get there, will
define the success of my existence.
So
maybe it isn’t a fantasy after all; instead, maybe it’s just where I'm meant to
go because of my understanding and desire of it. But to me, nothing could be
better, and I refuse to cease this battle. I shall defeat the forces of reality
that so quietly but so significantly prevent me from reporting to this world as
soon as possible, and I shall make it there. Someone else may not find it to be
a fantasy, but it is for me, and the first thing I need to do starting now is
to advocate for my side of the
battle.
-J
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