We Fail because we have to

My best friend has hit a hard time; life isn't panning out the way he wants it to.

As friends, we have to be careful how we give advice. We have to prepared for our friends not to listen to us, and we have to be prepared for them to pick up on every word we say.

Either way, you tread carefully, and be careful with your words. You can change someone's life by what you say, and it may not be in a good light.

I talked about my own transgressions. I used my experiences with life as a focus point - to me this always helps - its good to know that you're not the only one who has crap in your world and you don't have a big enough cloth to clean it.

I know from stories, HEROS, are the biggest misconceptions. Yes, they are strong. Yes, they save the world. Yes, they have a power, a gift, and/or a curse that they have to decide to use for the greater good.

HEROS have the biggest fears. Out of all their strength, they are most afraid. My friend explained that he looked up to me. I explained that he shouldn't because he only saw my life from the outside. I may have things together from the outside, but my accomplishments to him may not be mine.

I am an ambitious person. I love to achieve and grasp and conquer my goals. Still, I'm afraid. I'm afraid of not reaching my goals, and I'm afraid to fail.

Failing isn't a bad thing; we need to do it. We have to remember that we are human, and we can be touched and scarred. It also makes our achievements much more sweeter and we will cherish what we do for ourselves.

If you are at the starting point of your writing career, which I am. You will not be able to see the big picture. You are only working towards a dream, an ghost of yourself successful. Fear is a friend we can't turn away.

We get out there in the world and we crash and burn. It's apart of life, it's apart of success, it's apart of living. In failing, we learn how to succeed. I explained that he has to believe that he can do this, that he can be happy.

He has to find comfort in the small wins - achieving small goals. It's like climbing a mountain. You can't keep looking up; you have to take one step, after one step and you'll be to the top.

Sooner or later, you will reach the top. 

The Start of a Story

I am extremely unsure of what story I want to write.

I'm so happy to be writing again that I'm almost giddy. It feels like a first kiss with the promise of love. It feels like a hug from someone you never thought you would see again, and it feels like just breathing.

See what I mean? I've gone back to useless prose that I've started writing once more. Putting words together and forming phrases, that, in my opinion, sounds beautiful: painting a picture with words is beautiful, when you don't have that anymore, or can't do it, well... there's no painting going on, so there's no picture.

Working with a purpose means a lot to a writer. At least, in my opinion it does. Knowing that I'm working on something that has a finish line feels like a saftey net: as if I have a desination that I will, sooner or later, arrive at.

Now, I'm just free writing. Moving from one story to another; one mind set to another. Its a bit scary because I don't want to stop writing or become frustrated with the process of free writing, or just become scared that I won't be able to pick out a story that I want to finish.

Yet, I'm overthinking it. I'm writer, I over think everything. I believe it cant be helped.

Setting goals has its good and bad. I look at it as if its a brick wall, and I have to lay the bricks down. With each brick set, the better the chances that i will end up with a great foundation and a darn good looking house. Free writing... there is no bricks, no goal, no end.

Deadlines can be intimitading but its a light at the end of the tunnel.

I'm writing again. That was a huge step. I'm not known for my patience, but I feel like I need to have them with this.

Here and Now

I'm teaching myself to write again.

I lost track of myself. No, that's not right, I overloaded myself.

I put too much on my plate, barreled through deadline after deadline. I finished each project, and was extremely proud of all of them, but I wore myself down.

It got to the point that I couldn't put two sentences together without my head hurting. It felt like writing was the last thing I wanted to do, because it required me to think and thinking was not what I wanted.

So I took a few months off. Figured, at least the first two weeks, that I had just let writing settle for a moment. It was no big deal. I knew that the moment I sat at my computer again that the words would just appear and i would be in another world, singing happily and writing blissfully.

Oh, I was wrong. I didn't leave writing, writing left me. I no longer had ideas - well, I had ideas, but not the urge to sit at my computer and crank them out. I was in the mist of writer's ambition blocked. I had no real driving force to crank a story out, and when I tried, I hated everything I did.

Now, I'm taking things slow. I learning how to write again. I have a novel I'm working on, but I haven't really touched it. I'm, more or less, doing free writing. I'm trying to feel out the world again through my own words - tipping my tippy toes into the pool.

I had never meant to crash like I had and simply disappear. I'm not ready to fully emerge again, but the drive is there. It's all coming back, little by little. I'm here, right here, right in the now.

That's a step, at least.