I know it's too long for most of you to read it but i don't why, today i just felt writing this. So here i am with my emotions. And i hope you people end up inspiring yourself !
The blinking black bar taunts me relentlessly as the clean expanse of digital paper remains frustratingly vacant. The want is there, the need is there, but the mind incessantly remains stubborn, crossing its metaphorical arms and refusing to budge.
I have hit the wall.
This wall that has confounded and angered many who have come before me. This wall, which time to time again has prevented me from doing what I absolutely love to do. Write. It looms above me, almost endless in its height. The bricks sturdy and true, red and sealed, no cracks between.
I look to the left, I look to the right; all I see is the vast expanse of this barrier that keeps me from moving forward. It prevents me from releasing all of the thoughts I have pent up within. Just writing this is a struggle and evidence of the consistent pounding on the brick wall that does nothing but leave my hands cut up and bleeding.
I slump to the ground.
Surely it is futile? To continue trying to chip away at something to assuredly steadfast in its attempt to keep me where I am. Alone without my imagination to guide me, to help me through my day to day turmoils.
I should give up…that’s what it wants after all, right?
Taunting laughter echoes around me, emanating from what should be silent red brick before my prone figure. It knows it has won, it knows that I am giving up, it knows I am no match.
I sit, staring at my hands for what seems like days. Nothing but an emptiness at my back to keep me company. The colors I once saw every day, gone now; trapped on the other side of this impenetrable barricade.
Am I to stay here forever?
My eyes begin to close, resigning myself to my fate. Before the darkness takes me entirely, a small sound reaches my ears.
My eyes crack open, and I look around in a daze. Where had that come from? It sounds again, and my gaze turns skyward. A small bird is gliding gently, tweeting happily as it descends from the wall. But there is nothing on this side, how could this tiny creature be here? Eventually, the newcomer lands softly before me, gazing up at me with a twist of its head. The little eye trying to convey a message that it can’t with words.
Moments pass before it hits me. The wall, it isn’t endless.
I leap upwards, following the now excited bird towards the angry red bricks. If this little thing could find its way over the top, then so could I.
I begin the climb, my new companion urging me on with soft and happy tweets.
My hands grip what little I can as I pull myself agonizingly upward. Nails rip, blood flows freely as I slowly make progress. Higher and higher I go, steeling myself against the fear of falling from such a distance.
For if I lose my grip now, I may never be able to come back from it.
The bird circles my head happily as we go up and up. Wispy clouds have begun to form as a chill seeps through my skin. The wall groans and I feel it tremble, forcing me to pause my climb.
A sudden vibration and a wave of movement send me skidding a few feet downwards, ripping a scream from my throat. The wall, it’s trying to stop me.
I won't let it.
Determination fills me as I reclaim the lost distance and push onward, the red beneath my hands all the while trying in vain to halt my advance.
I pause once more, catching my breath. This climb is taking all I have, but I must reach the top.
Light pricks my eyes, shining like a glorious beacon. I know I’m almost there. Reaching my hand up one last time, I grip the top brick and haul my exhausted body over.
Sitting, finally, I gaze over the blockade that tried to keep me imprisoned. A lush green expanse of beautiful wilderness and fields meet my eyes. Creations waiting to be put to paper run amok, laughing happily. My minds inventions laid out before me to see.
My little friend chirps next to me and looks downwards towards a pillow like substance far below. It wants me to go down.
Smiling, I nod, I won’t be afraid anymore. I won’t be barricaded within my own mind.
Taking a deep breath, I swing my other leg over the edge and leap.
While this is obviously a fictional representation, it is accurate to the struggle with which I go through whenever I hit this ‘wall.’ I chose to use writing as my example for this story since it is what I am most familiar with and currently am having the most difficulty.
I have loved writing since I was young. I’ve created countless stories and essays, all with the attempt to put my thoughts down, to make sense of what is going through my head. It wasn’t until I found Mirakee that I shared any of it though. I preferred to keep my writing private, fearing rejection and humiliation above all else.
So when I find myself beginning to slip back into my mindset of obscurity, I have to fight.
Every single time.
It takes so much from me to keep pushing, to know that yes I can do this. To rip the self-imposed shackles off and find my drive.
As I mentioned in the above writing, this piece was hard for me to get through. I had to take a sledgehammer and demolish that barrier. It’s not that I don’t want to write. Oh no, it’s there. But there are times when I find myself delving back into depression, back into my cocoon of isolation.
I find I don’t want to do anything at that point.
So I push back. It may take a few days, or weeks even. I know that I will eventually get there, as long as I don’t give up.
I suppose what I’m trying to convey with this short essay, article, story, whatever you want to call it. Is that no matter what, no matter where you are in life. No matter the struggles you’re going through and the hardships you face. Try, just try, give it your best, to find what you love to do and do it again. Feel that happiness for yourself. Give yourself that.
I know everyone is different, I know we all have our own problems to face. Whatever you can do though, just try.
I pay much attention in paper-wrapping a chewing gum before binning it away. I would never want it to end up sticking to new shoes or ironed shirts. Then I turn and already see people holding nothing but powder on their tongues. Bound to slip, they are bound to slip off the best conversations into ruins. People are less and lesser about appreciation and thanks giving nowadays but more about toxic criticism and shaming.
The last time I spoke, someone told me, I have been speaking as clear as breathings of a newborn. Oxygenated, so oxygenated that alone felt comparing with the time I could barely roll my tongue to words. But something, that always stayed the same, has been my ability to praise. My father always tells me, appreciation is the most essential consequence of hardwork. I, let it happen.
Praises are misunderstood prayers. Coming from a person like me, they occupy most of my stomach and entire of my portal veins. I never praise to butter their dry breads but to hope their almost torn ropy tears each time they doubt themselves. I believe a true, authentic and valuable appraisal can remove the toxins of doubts from people. I happen to know the temple of confidence always, has deities of reminders. People need to be reminded of their capabilities. My prayers are never known to fade because they are brocaded. They can make silk scarfs out of people.