LuoirM
Voidiris' enthusiast feet enjoyer.
- Joined
- Mar 5, 2021
- Messages
- 1,436
- Points
- 153
If you were to revive the greatest pen holders (penists?) in history of mankind and ask them to do justice on my writing for the past two years, they would not get very far.
Every morning I woke up, the first thing I think about is my story, is writing.
Every noon when I'm not doing anything productive, I think about writing
Every evening when I'm suppose to be studying, I think about writing.
When I go to bed, I think about writing.
Creation is one of the only thing that kept me sane and alive, and yet, could you guess how productive I was with writing in that period?
I make zero progress, I wrote nothing, I jot down nothing, I have nothing and I publish nothing, all of it is simply in my head, bouncing around like a kid in a hamster ball being abandon by her parents.
For two years straight, my mind was stuck in purgatory of seeking the highest form of pleasure only for the merciless to bound my hand.
Twelve hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five point twenty five days a year. It is truly something I do not wish on my worst enemy, not even the French.
But that all have changed, for I have been rebirth, I have saw the ashes of the phoenix fallen on top of my grave and it changed me, I now write, I now live. I now see a chance for humankind not to fallen into dystopia.
There is no potion, no pill and no guidelines, only and only through suffering do mankind evolved. For I now will write, I now will learn, I now will walk and I now will breath the same air as the gods.
See you, everyone, friends and foes, fiends and toes. For our love-hate relationship between authors together, has only begun.
Scribo ergo sum.
Every morning I woke up, the first thing I think about is my story, is writing.
Every noon when I'm not doing anything productive, I think about writing
Every evening when I'm suppose to be studying, I think about writing.
When I go to bed, I think about writing.
Creation is one of the only thing that kept me sane and alive, and yet, could you guess how productive I was with writing in that period?
I make zero progress, I wrote nothing, I jot down nothing, I have nothing and I publish nothing, all of it is simply in my head, bouncing around like a kid in a hamster ball being abandon by her parents.
For two years straight, my mind was stuck in purgatory of seeking the highest form of pleasure only for the merciless to bound my hand.
Twelve hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five point twenty five days a year. It is truly something I do not wish on my worst enemy, not even the French.
But that all have changed, for I have been rebirth, I have saw the ashes of the phoenix fallen on top of my grave and it changed me, I now write, I now live. I now see a chance for humankind not to fallen into dystopia.
There is no potion, no pill and no guidelines, only and only through suffering do mankind evolved. For I now will write, I now will learn, I now will walk and I now will breath the same air as the gods.
See you, everyone, friends and foes, fiends and toes. For our love-hate relationship between authors together, has only begun.
Scribo ergo sum.
