No one wants to be at this point, here in writing limbo. School has picked up again, a certainly interesting affair that prevents me from doing the things I wish I were doing. I would like to continue to churn out the lives of Sapphira, Ryo, and with the most recent short story slowing down, the trauma-stricken Katherine. It’s been far too long since I’ve made a post, but I must persist in the promise that I will make something new soon, along with a post from some of my older materials.

I am somewhat hesitant on discussing the further details of life as I find them personally unbearable from a stranger’s mouth. I do, however, think it is important to recognize and allow others to recognize the problematic points that really affect myself and very likely countless others.

I am not special. I’m a human amidst humans. I am not special. The work I can do is special, is unique, and runs of the risk of becoming something horrifyingly extraordinary. I go to school, I clock in at work, I greet people with smiles but that does not make me stand out. The things I can create have a footprint. They are digitized and in readable ASCII and hopefully will be on readable paper, the kind that eventually emits a pleasant smell to the reader. You can’t smell a computer screen.

The point here is being so focused on the trivial things, the things that no one will remember, least of all yourself. Creation is the greatest gift to others. Practiced creation is the greatest gift to yourself. It begets both failure and accomplishment of the most memorable degree, and without the former there will never truly exist the latter, because true success is a learned tool. The trivial things can wash away this principle in a mudslide of melancholic misery, as it has for myself. I find the memory of most days erased by the next sunrise. I find the thought of celebrating every New Year’s Eve wondering just what the hell I did for the last 365 days absolutely appalling; if it can be boiled down to a handful of rudimentary habits and routines then why am I still here?

There needs to be a purpose.

I would like to go further into the subject at a later point, and I do sincerely apologize for the stream-of-consciousness style writing. For now, I’d like to leave it as-is, and perhaps think about committing some effort to writing a pseudo-philosophical piece on the subject in the future. In the meantime, farewell!