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Over the past year, I defeated a fear of other people, learned the value of clarity and brevity, fought writer's block, and developed pride in my words.

Now I am a writer with a love for onomatopoeias and an affinity for semicolons.

Message from Writer

This community has helped me get over a fear of showing people my writing, and an inability to take ownership and pride in what comes out of my mouth and fingertips.

I can't thank any of you enough for that.

I welcome any feedback or criticism that you have to offer. You're here because you at least found something of mine that sparked interest, so thank you.
I want to improve.

A Mural of Pain and Heart

February 21, 2019


She sits at her desk, typing a flurry of run-on sentences and poorly punctuated lines. She has no time or patience for grammar, because all she can think about is how she would so much rather be holding his hand than occupying her fingers with the clicking of a keyboard. How she has no idea what they mean to each other now that the worst of it is over. How she is trying so hard to choke down inconvenient, ill-fated emotions that she knows will not do anyone any good. How she is still struggling to figure out what he wants. Her head is a mess.
She writes to empty her mind, to put the millions of ideas swarming in her subconscious down onto paper and form them into something tangible. However, lately her thoughts have no form at all. They are shapeless, abstract, infuriating. She envies his ability to calculate every word he writes, his unique mind that can identify and put language to his thoughts and emotions. Her abyss is not like his, it is not clear, it is not compartmentalized. It is a fog; a blind mist of colors and thoughts that carry no sense and bring no understanding. The act of writing is rendered useless.
Her creative mind is still in full gear, creating stories and prose that would make an interesting read if she were to write them down. However, they now lack the meaning, the relief that she had once found in her words. How can one empty their mind of something they cannot even identify?

She has no choice but to try and figure it out.
I wrote this several months ago in the midst of a severe writer's block. I was stuck in a catch-22, and it was painful and exhausting. I wanted to write, but I was so swallowed by someone else's issues that my spark and will to get my own emotions down on paper was pretty much completely drained. Now, I've put enough distance behind me that I feel like I can post this piece as a warning. Please don't sacrifice your sanity for the sake of someone else's problems. You're worth more than that.


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  • February 21, 2019 - 10:54pm (Now Viewing)

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