Introduction
2024-02-07
Prompt: write about what ways writing plays a role in your life-- why do you like it? is it hard? what's your relationship with it? be as abstract or direct as you'd like.
I write, yes, but I am not a writer. I am simply someone who puts words to a page. Like a stork delivers a baby, I await my writing certificate, rolled up neatly and bound by a red ribbon.
No– actually– perform an accolade instead. I will get on my knees just to experience the kiss of a cold blade on each of my shoulders. Start with my left and travel right. Let it signify positive movement forward, a blessing of sorts. Iniate me into the world of writing and grant me the title of Writer. I simply cannot call myself a Writer for I am unworthy.
I know after my ceremony I will tremble. As a Writer, I will endeavor to bear my soul to you. Look at me, but don't look at me. Any mistakes made will surely kill me. I have a weak heart, you see. Each piece will be written in agony; I know no other way, and it's the Artist's way. I shall mask my insecurity with pretty words, and I will never be satisfied; it's the Artist's way. I will write lousy words, and to accompany it, I will beat myself down worse than anyone has ever beaten me. This is my role. No one can reach me. I've placed myself in a tall tower, far away. I only hear the faint echoes of others. It's better this way.
(In other words, I've always wanted to be a writer, but I am ruled by insecurity, shame, and perfectionism. This is my attempt to be a writer anyway, with the vain hope it'll get easier and less painful).