Life as we know is gone. The once vivid city now stands abandoned. Earth became a wasteland, stripped of all life. Broken, confused, and in a desperate search for answers, one person still roams its desolate remains.
The Wanderer has no memories, no recollection of the events that led to the end of the world. All he sees are deserted buildings and the smoke that covers the sun.
While taking shelter in an abandoned house one night, the last man on Earth gets a knock on his door. He finds an unexpected guide in a woman who feels familiar.
Will he choose to keep traversing these lands, lost as before, or will he take her guidance to find the answers his heart so deeply desires?
Ah yes it is the season. The heat is dwindling down, the air is becoming more and more breathable as the world somehow seems to plunge itself more and more into an apocalypse, I emerge from the shadows of my day job that kept me clenched for the last few months as I can roam around a bit more freely. Not yet entirely off my chain, as there is still so much to do, but now I can muster enough strength to get up and actually write something. Not just that, as I abandoned my duties, feeling the immense guilt hovering over me, I try to make myself feel good about my so called profession (as it is still hard for me to consider myself a full pledged writer) and I dive deep into the query trenches with my fellow colleagues, ready to get hurt again. But my oh my, have I forgotten the sweet and somber taste of tears as you wake up and see that one mail notification, not really having the strength to open it as you may presume what answer came in so quickly. But then again, they say writing a book is the easiest part of our journey, of our job and this I take, is one of the more heartbreaking ones.
I am ready to get hurt again
I am well aware I have been lacking when it comes to my duties as a writer. The future is still there, ready to be made, as I make plans and sacrifices that I meticulously preform, I decided it was best to step back from writing as I needed to focus on my day job and get the most out of it financially as I will be quitting it in the following months and moving away. That for one is a moment I can not wait, but until it comes I need to persevere, stand my ground solidly, keeping my head cool and composed, as now with more time on my hands I can get back to doing what I love, what I feel was brought here to do in the first place. So this year was immense for me, not just because of the terrifying notion of the changing future, but as the great start of my writing career. The blog is still going strong and I will be doing more here as I promised, but in this year alone my first book was published, “The Lonesome Road”, and I have finished writing my third book called “Equinox”. So with time on my hand, I slowly began sending queries, forgetting the pain that experience brings with. Ah, the rejection, the anxiety and depression of that one mail, where you know well that the majority will be denied. I was ready, so I thought, as I sent only few out and the other day got only one response that was quicker then I would predict. When you do this few times you get to know that getting a response so quick can never mean anything positive and surely, as I opened my mail after pondering on the question do I want to know what’s in it, I mustered the remaining strength and saw the rejection. Did I predict it? Most definitely, as this is not my first ride and I know how hard it is to get some attention with it. Did it sting never the less? Oh, as a dagger plunged in my heart. You see, there is something in it, where you prepare yourself for it, make your own mind understand it will be a process, that only the rare ones get it resolved so quickly and you practically sit down with yourself and talk to your mind and heart that we are bound to get hurt and that is OK, it’s perfectly fine and normal and yet again it doesn’t diminish the pain recieved. There is some consistency about it I reckon, where it will awake the doubts that you try to keep silent, making yourself question your capabilities as a writer, with the usual questions am I good enough. But one thing is funny to me. I really am at peace. Without pressure I go back down, with all of you my fellow colleagues, down back at the trenches, not losing hope, while accepting the pain od denial, knowing well that what I have in my hands, the work of my mind and heart, is valuable and it will find a pair of eyes that will appreciate it.
To live is to learn
I always say querying is an art form. Something, same as writing, you must master. And I can see that in my case. I compare it, when I started, with my first manuscript and how it went to now and I can see the difference in the approach of querying and even writing. In this profession you always learn something, you always upgrade your skill and I can see that, but what I found the most curious is how my mind set changed. When I first tried to query, I remember the constant rejection, the pain caused from it, how it made me doubt that I was stupid to think in the first place I could be a writer. But now, after everything, the confidence and self belief is astonishing. Especially with someone who battled with mental health issues for most of his life, I am surprised to why do I feel this sudden surge of confidence and serenity. It is almost worrying as I am not used to it. But I guess it comes with age, with experience, with life. After getting through so many mistakes, perhaps it is possible that even I, began to learn from them. Perhaps when we find our purpose, when we find something we love to do, we find ourselves. Maybe in writing more so, as we writers, orchestrates of events and tellers of tales and life, put a part of ourselves in the stories we create and with it comes an instinct to protect and nurture the thing we put out, as it contains our soul. Confidence comes from experience, yes, but it also is created, as no one is born with it. As we are able to create whole new worlds, so we are able to create the self belief necessary to put our faith in them.
The story that the mind holds
Now I am in the toughest position for a writer. I know I have a good manuscript which I need to send out, having the “The Lonesome Road” out which I need to promote, my heart right now cries for new stories to be made. It always pulls you away, the things you want to create, the worlds and tales you wish to present to the world, but I must stay consistent, as that is I feel the thing I lack, the thing that authors need to possess, consistency. I have this idea, which I talked about before here, a series that I want to create which has been in my head for decades now. But fear that I lack the experience to give the story justice prevents me to put it on paper. So perhaps one more project before that one is due, as I slowly started to write few words about it, then we take on the dream. Like I pointed out, with each story we gain experience, learning something new and valuable and for this dream to be put into writing I feel I need to be prepared. So before I take it on, one more manuscript will be written and I feel I will possess enough confidence to do that dream justice. But until then? I am not losing hope. The belief and trust in my capabilities are still there, more mature, more consistent. Right now I will continue to crawl in the trenches of querying, eat the mud and tears as I know that even from that I will gain valuable experience and knowledge. I am confident that Equinox will be accepted, but until then I commit myself to my duties to this blog, to my ongoing projects that are out, not losing faith, never losing hope and slowly making my return to the fold. Much love to you all beautiful people,
If you want to witness the start of my journey and give my first book a shot, here is the link for “The Lonesome Road”, you can find out more about it.
Even though I am fighting against the heat, alongside the heavy hours of my day job, yearning for a day off that I haven’t seen for four weeks now, I feel like this post was meant to be written. The other day, while contemplating what should I write for this weeks “Process of writing” I stumble on a peculiar notification from my WordPress. “Congrats on the two year anniversary of the Word Den!” . I was shocked a bit, not really knowing the precise date when it all started and surely not being aware it’s been already two years. Time is for certain the silent killer, one that slips through even our mind’s grasp, but seeing that notification made me happy, prideful and yet it filled my heart with such sorrow I couldn’t even imagine.
The confession of a writer
It’s been two years since the Word Den was created. And it’s been two more since I started this whole journey, creating my first book “The Lonesome Road” which came out few months ago. So four, if not more, years passed and looking back at my achievements I couldn’t but feel shame. What have I accomplished? What did I do? Do I feel happy looking back on all these years as a writer? I thought by now I will do more, that by now I will be more. But now, even after all the misery experienced, my life remains the same. Every year I make big promises, saying I am going abroad, trying my hand in something else, that next year I won’t do a shitty job like I do now. And every year I fail, staying at the same place, working the same job, fighting with the thoughts that I am not worthy of my life. And today, while sitting at my break at work, a thought came to my mind. Perhaps I am really not worthy of this life, perhaps I merely withheld a potential, as maybe if someone esle had an opportunity to live it, they would do a better job. Dark thoughts I know, as lately all I am having are dark thoughts. Truth be told even this year I thought I would fail, not even making the promises of progress that I make to myself and others and just stay in place. But life throws unforseen paths, so now I will have to risk it all, and as time approaches for me to move somewhere else, I am scared. Few days ago I saw an old friend I rarely see now. He asked am I going abroad and I said yea next year, to which he answered you tell me that every year. Hearing those words broke my already cracked heart. Am I really that to my friends, a lost soul that seeks something he can never truly grasp? And now, seeing that it is the two year anniversary of the Den, I dropped deeper in the rabbit hole of thought and despair. I know I don’t do as much as I should for this to become my career. Even after writing three books I am not sure I still have what it takes to do this. As writers we are taught by our fellow colleagues that whatever you write, write for yourself as in that case it ensures quality, a book, a story you would want to read would get recognised. But yet, we the ones who pull our soul into the written letter, we strive for validation. After all I’ve done, I still do not know is it good, is it bad, without a solid critique I feel like I am merely drifting into obscurity just to be eaten away by the darkens of the void my mind creates. Even knowing how stupid that sounds, doubt is the current currency in which my mind deals. I know, time will only show, I need to be patient and trust my skills and instinct and yet all my life I felt like a man without time. As if all my achievements should have occurred earlier and now I am lacking, in life, in personality, in soul. Is it because of the society that told me my time is wasting away that I feel so soulless, empty? Or is it perhaps my own dumb quest of putting myself out there in a different place that keeps me from reaching the sorely missed potential? Five years or so have passed since I started writing. Do I have anything to show for it? A blog that has thousands of views, three books that even after I pulled a piece of my soul in each I still feel lacking to call myself a writer. After this prolonged thought, a question remains… What is a writer? How is a writer’s creed and quality measured? Is it the recognition we so foolishly seek, wanting nothing more then pedestals to be put on, that our name is sung and praised for eternity as it is sung of many greats that came before? Or is it perhaps a smile? An intrigue raised in the eyes of the beholder, making the one that holds the written pages, grasping them ever so tightly, wanting more? Is it perhaps that our purpose is to inspire, to motivate, to bring the satisfaction of mind that not all can provide nor obtain?
For what is worth, the attempt counts
I realise this was a bit out of the blue. I go missing for weeks, perhaps now when more then ever I should be here present with all of you, my book practically came out and yet I went away. To be honest, I do possess a good excuse, working everyday for 10 hours without a day off, but frankly I am sick and tired of excuses. I know I can and I am “willing” to write, put out content weekly, other then me pouring out my soul like this to you guys once a week. Ever since I became a writer, hell even before that, I encountered the infamous imposter syndrome. But now is different, I can’t explain it, as if the syndrome consumed my daily life and feelings, spilling itself from my writing counterpart. I doubt not just my writing, but my existence as a whole. I made so many mistakes in life, took so many turns that resulted in too many “Tomorrow I will change” that just vanished away. As always I am perhaps too harsh on myself, as always I need to realise this is a grind and I should keep my head up and get back to the trenches. Even a start of a thing is admirable. And I feel like I did more then just start, I feel like I did more then just wish for a better tomorrow and stood in one place. But it breaks a man, those many attempts that resulted in nothingness, how many times can one rise until he decides enough is enough, what’s the point? With all my troubles, with all my scars and the heavy burden I carry, I wonder, does this all count as a mere attempt, just another shot of mine at something or is it my true redemption, my true calling, proving to myself I am something more then what people saw me for?
I am not quitting
Sometimes it feels like I am. As obligations get the better of me, as the bills need to be paid and relationships need to be mended, I set aside this endeavour of mine for quite some time. But it calls, it beckons, like a sweet tune of a song, it never goes away from my mind. Am I really good enough to do it? Perhaps. Is my life destined for something far less then the greatness of the written word? Maybe. But I won’t quit. I can’t. Because if I do I am betraying all I fought for, every redemption I worked for, as this is much more then writing. This is a chance to prove to myself, to all, that I am not worthless, that my life means something, that I have something to offer to the world. A written word of my suffering that might come as comfort to some, guidance to others and resolution to many. Perhaps I won’t ever get my shot, but if I do, I know, my mind has to rest easy. As this is my path of life, the path of self worth, the path of my own glory. Perhaps I drift into the obscurity of the void, only remembered by my failed attempts, known only as the one who never truly tried or was able to make it, a man made of mere wishes, never out of actions or decisions. Whatever fate has in store for me, wherever this path may take me, I know I must feel the pride of my ways, after taking so many wrongs ones, I need to trust this is the right one. Perhaps I am just a man without time, a lost soul who has wronged his life beyond repair that any attempt of salvation is futile. But does that mean I should not try? Even if I do not know will my effort be worth it, I know this. When it comes to not doing anything, staying in the hole of misery with your own thoughts or attempting to do anything, no matter how slight or insignificant it may be, I will always chose to move forward. I have seen what staying in one place, wallowing in my own self pity brings and it scares me. Because of that fear I shall always move on, go forward and do something, anything, knowing well what doing nothing and giving up brings. As even if the void swallows me whole, let it be known, I too have tried, I too made an effort, I too kept walking forward. Be it a leap, a single step or even crawling, please do know I too tried to move forward.
I have disappeared for a few weeks, trying so hard to find my way back and to get at least this post to you. I am aware that every post, every poem is valuable and shouldn’t be rushed, yet still I am left with this feeling of inadequacy, the sorrowful hand of not being worthy. Writing is my passion, my dream, my desire and yet I am fighting with the outside forces to keep going. I take it seriously, or at least I tend to, making it my responsibility. Being as it is, I do have a responsibility not just to myself to keep on writing, but the responsibility to improve myself, promote my book and so on. But I find myself carrying a heavy boulder of time that drains me. Right now, as any summer, I lost my days off, working around 70 hours a week and I feel drained. Not exhausted, no, but drained of will power, but not inspiration. As I am moving next year I need every coin I can muster up, so I don’t have the ability to complain much, yet I feel my dream suffers, as guilt takes me whole, feeling I sacrificed a part of me at least for now for the sake of the future. But, with the never ending depression, combined by stress and exhaustion, I became a time bomb.
To walk a Path
We all have dreams, aspirations, hopes, right? But the question is not do we have them, but rather can we abide to them, hold and never let go of our dreams. To dream is to yearn, and to yearn is to live. So it does not come as a surprise that we are afraid to lose the dream we cultivated for so much, as it would feel close to death. What is a man without a dream, without hope? Just an empty husk, a mere tear of rain going down a leaf, without purpose, without intent, pointlessly falling down. But there is something that we fear more then losing that precious dream of ours. The fear of false pretense. What if we worked for a dream that we were never able to achieve? Yes, yes to love and lose the love is better then to never love at all, I get it. But is it the same in this case? Is it really better to fight for something even if in the end it was never yours to fight for in the first place? Perhaps it is better to live with the fire in your heart then lie with the stiffness of the soul. But it makes me wonder, it makes me afraid… What if we are inadequate to live up to our dreams, what if it was merely a fools hope? For most of my life, I can not shake the feeling of dread that I might not be capable of doing what I love, but considering the darkness of the alternative, is giving up even an option?
The flow of time, the string of heart
Time tells all tales. Stories that came before and those that will happen. Only time will tell will our efforts be fruitful. We can only do our best. I use this site as my personal shrink, to open up my thoughts that probably only few will read. But to you, the mighty few I present this question, do we want to know? Do we want to know if the dream of our hope and future is ours to make a reality? Is it better to know the truth or live in hope as even then maybe we prove our worth and even make the impossible possible, with great effort and sacrifice even the unworthy can make their dream a reality. I stand before you, as someone who spent his life shrouded in the darkness of his own mistakes and heart, broken and misunderstood I stand the tallest of my capabilities, knowing well what stands behind, I am going to continue to walk forward. The shadows our mind casts will always be tall and heavy, but they, same as the heavy burden of our hope, are our own creations. We, the mighty few, who create the burden, are capable to carry it.
Live and learn
I admit, I don’t know much. I have still plenty to learn. But I am willing. I do not know if my tales, the stories I pull from my heart and put on pages will be read, will they be loved or hated, only time will tell. For me, all that remains is to do my best, knowing well I can not go back to the darkness that awaits behind. Doubt and despair hold me down, with everything in my life I don’t know will I ever feel worthy of being worthy. But I know this. Even in this brief post, just thinking about the hope that resides in me for the future, I know it is worth it. We the few, us the many, must stand taller then the shadows of our mind, shine brighter then the darkness of our heart, as the dark is everlasting, eternal and immortal. It is up to us, to be the shining beacon of hope for the future that is still wished for.
To my few, to all the many, stand prideful and tall,
It’s been a while and I have to apologise. I have been absent even though I know I need to keep the blog alive and promote my book. But with the start of the summer, so did my curse start called the day job where I lose my days off and work 60+ hours a week. Yea I know, unbelievable to a point. But I am trying to balance things behind the curtains, working on projects, just not with the pace I am comfortable with. I finished my third book Equinox and now I am in a process of creating the synopsis so I can get back to the query trenches with all of you, to which I am not really looking forward, having the fond memories of rejection. So even if I had slacked when it comes to the Word Den, today I want to talk about something all creators aspire to do, what we fear and what we wish and that is to take that leap of faith and write full time. Today I want to share the fear of the future.
Mind divided, heart decided
When you think about it, on a statistical scale, it’s stupid, right? How many of us are there? How many of us really make it? When I started this journey few years back (geez I can’t believe that I’ve been doing this for couple of years now) a good friend / mentor who is an experienced writer shared few gems of advice and he told me something that stuck in my head till this day. There are so many not good, but great books that remain hidden under the radar of the masses, works with great stories and even greater characters and yet they don’t get the appreciation they deserve. Imagine how many of those writers remain unseen and yet with that scary notion in mind, do you really need to stop writing? No, never. Write for yourself, write the story you want to read and eventually the people will follow. This is not a race this is a journey. I met a lot of people who advised and supported me, as an introvert I am grateful, as without the many voices of experience and wisdom that shared their words with me, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’ve been through a lot. By this point in my life few years ago, I thought I would be dead. But this, writing, saved my life and reminded me I still have something to offer in return. Am I good enough thought? Imposter syndrome is a daily occurance for us, but I get back to the words of my friend. Write the stories you would want to read and the people will follow. But then am I good enough to do this? Yes. And no. This is a journey. In this we learn constantly, daily, we improve and we grow. To say we are good enough can’t cut it as we will always improve. So am I good enough? Well, I am better then I was yesterday.
One for the future
So there is this desire and I dare to speak for all writers and creators here. We all love what we do and offer us to do this daily, for a living and I guarantee you there is no one who would even hesitate to accept that offer in a heartbeat. So how easy is it, I keep asking myself every day. What does it take to accept the calling we feel, to stay strong in these hard times and try? Fear is the constant reminder we are human and it prevents us to take part in things that make us happy. Is it just plain old fear or perhaps rationality? I do not know. But after all I’ve been through, I feel like my life will change after the end of this year. I feel like it is time for me to try, no matter how much I fear, to accept the calling that saved me and give my all. Perhaps we all feel like we have what it takes, but to someone who thought he will never amount to anything, to feel I was born to do this, it is a strange sensation. I had this thing I said way before all of this. Depression took a deep hold and I told once while talking to my uncle that I won’t live past 30. To this day he jokingly reminds me how many years I have left, just now as a reminder how stupid I was. But back then I really thought so as I lived my life as I never mattered, as I will die any second. And I claimed whatever I do till I am 30 will be it as I won’t see past it. I have less then 2 years till I cross that milestone. And after standing under my dark cloud for so long, I say now I will live past it. But these are uncertain times. Is it really smart to take that leap of faith and indulge in our dreams when the tomorrow is not guaranteed? But is tomorrow ever guaranteed? I don’t know much, but I know this. For more then ten years (yea that long) I have worked jobs that demeaned and belittled me, broke me spirituality, mentally and physically. So what’s wrong with that at some point we break our mind and find that hidden strength and just take that leap of faith? If tomorrow is never guaranteed, why not try and make the dawn that will come a bit less gloomy?
The rightful circumstances
Perhaps I am wrong, perhaps those words are thought by a lot of you or perhaps that leap of faith will pay off, who knows? Life is full of uncertainty, you can not control it. All I know I lived most of mine in sorrow and despair so perhaps doing something that makes me happy and fully committing to it will only make me content. All of us have our own stories about this, all of us have opinions on it, so let me know yours, I am always happy for a new insight. Like I said, right now my schedule is hectic, I feel so broken but I will try my best to continue to write. Right now the synopsis of my new book is a priority, I feel like it’s taking longer then the actual book. But I am here, still fighting, still believing, still going forward. Perhaps there won’t ever be a right time to fully commit to the craft or perhaps we ourselves have to make the time right. All I know my heart, my soul are screaming to take that leap of faith and who knows, perhaps on the other side happiness awaits…
It is the last day of May. I know I spent the last few days, weeks even talking about “The Lonesome Road” but don’t think I have forgotten this rather important month. Even if my book has an important message, I couldn’t just let this last day go by without stating the obvious. We have months like these to remember, to make the unaware aware, to speak up to those who know less and yet there is a certain problem I have with these kind of things. As if it makes us use that one month to speak about certain issues, with such passion, with such numbers, and as time passes by so do the thoughts that were put on such issues. But time passes, it awaits for no one, yet these struggles stay. So let us not forget, let us remember, not just in May, but in June, August and December, through out the year, that we shouldn’t be afraid to speak up about our burdens, our struggles and we should not shun, but help, not forget, bur rally, not blame, but understand.
The message stands
Why is it so hard to care? Is it because the world is filled with enough problems, so we just choose on which one to focus our mind on? Or is it perhaps the question of some problems are just bigger then other? Whatever it may be, one thing is for sure, we should never forget. Forget how to be humans, how to be friends, brothers and sisters. We shouldn’t forget how to care, how to understand. Because I believe there it is hidden, the solution of all problems, no matter which one specifically we choose to fight for. Just remember to be human. As I said, May might be over, but as with a lot of these months were we choose to spread the awareness, we should never forget to care. This world can be much sometimes. Our environment can be harsh and unforgiving, but it is up to us to carry the message, to hold the banner and speak up, every month, every year and every day. Let us never forget to be there for others, creating a safe haven to speak, to talk, to show we do want to understand. The sad truth is one man can not change the world. But one man can make it a bit better. And isn’t that the whole point? If we all attempt to do it, if we all try, in the end there will not be just one, but many. And who knows, we might just change the damn world after all.
Mental health issues will perhaps one day be accepted as that, problems we don’t need to hide. As many problems, there is always a certain amount of distrust, or the lack of trust, when we try to open up, when we try to speak up. We often tend to think what the person who is about to receive that information will think. Will they judge? Will they just shrug their shoulders and say its nothing, man up? We create the environment we live in. We create the world we inhabit. It is dangerously reckless to claim we can’t do anything about it when we all have the power to make a difference. But it takes a step. A leap of faith that at first seems so insignificant, so small, as in why would I even do it, what difference would it make? To the world? Perhaps none. To one person? It can be life changing. Like I said, perhaps one individual can not change the world, but pulled together, we as a society, we can damn well do some damage. But we can not think that small, one step is meaningless. As if we all take one step forward, it is no longer a single step, but a jump, a leap inside of an ocean that could create a tidal wave. But, to do that, we must remember, stay human. Don’t let ego make your decisions. Every action matters, everything we do affects someone, we can not think so highly that we are alone in this universe, in this world, just look around and you shall see. Sometimes we all just need a hand, to stand up. Be it a tough life, a crappy day or just a bad luck weekend, offer that hand to someone who is down, and who knows? You just might make a difference.
To those who fell
I keep on repeating myself, I know. Sometimes I just can’t help it. But I felt how you are feeling and I still do. Everyday is a struggle. Everyday you feel like you need to find a reason, no matter how big or small, just to get through to the night. I know. Believe me. Sometimes you just try no to think about it, go on to work, out, just shoving your emotions in a corner, because it’s easier to deal with them when they come crushing back when you get home later, alone on the floor of your room, trying to deal with the crap you tried to just for one day, forget. This life, my beautiful people, is just a trial of run and error. We make mistakes. We all do. It is just human nature, no one is perfect. We all carry scars, just some of us have bigger ones. But even if we make mistakes today, no one guarantees us we will make new ones tomorrow. Trial of error and run. Your run this life, doing best you could, making mistakes, until one time you get it right. And even if now or sometimes feels like you can’t get it right, you will. You have the strength to stand right now, today. You made it this far. Through all the pain and suffering, standing today against the odds. You will make it through tomorrow. It is hard to trust. We look at humanity with open eyes and sometimes we want to cry. But we can not judge it whole with prejudice. Open your mind and your heart and who knows? Humanity might just surprise you.
And for the rest? Don’t judge. Extend your hand, make and effort to understand. It is already hard for us to speak about it as when we do, we speak with fear. Make us hope, as hope is what we need, to show that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow, the sun might shine just a tad bit more brightly.
Speak the message throughout the year. Break the stigma. Break the prejudice. Open your minds and heart. Understand. And be human.
And the heart follows… Isn’t that the saying? In the vastness of the world, we are left alone, with one old rule that this Earth never let’s us forget. The world owes us nothing and nothing in return it shall give.
Welcome, this week’s P.O.W., we are continuing the countdown to the Road, with 2 days to go.
In my mind, I was always alone. Misunderstood. Broken. When I looked over, I saw people who had at least part of their life fixed. It worked, you know? And mine? My life was nothing but a series of unfortunate events that I had only my own stupid head to blame. We all make mistakes, right? It’s on our human nature, we fall, we break things, mostly ourselves. But in that path of wrecking our own life and happiness there is one constant. One thing we wish the most. For someone to see, for someone to offer us a hand. To help us out to stand even when we see no way to do so. But our mind breaks and our heart follows as we witness people walking by, leaving us on the curb as some beggars, with our hands extended, begging to be held. And in our fall, tumbling down to the endless darkness we ask ourselves, is there such thing as human kindness?
We all have our Path
In “The Lonesome Road” our protagonist walks the Path, not just the physical representation of his journey but his spiritual transcending of his sins and mistakes in hopes he can mend his broken heart and fix his shattered mind, making amends with his mistakes of the past. He is left alone, in a world he knows little about, even if it is abandoned, it makes little difference as he was always alone, even when it was buzzing. Tempted by two sides, he must stay strong and true to himself, as the pain in his own heart must be firstly understood by himself.
And there is the truth. No matter if we extend our hand, we don’t ask for the help to be guided. No. We ask for understanding. It is us who firstly need to mend the scars that barely hold the mind as it is broken into million pieces. Help comes, in different forms and shapes. But it is our own hand we need to accept first and foremost, to start the process of healing.
We often deny our own strength, feeling like we have none. But the mind that suffered for so long has the strength to pull itself up. As a friend told me recently, we came so far, so whats few more steps?
We are all on a different Path. But we walk it, never alone. Even if it feels like that sometimes. The thoughts we possess and the burden we carry is something we need to acknowledge, accept and face. It is in our power to mend our mind or break it.
They say the burden we possess is not heavier then our capability to carry it. It is true. We doubt our strength, our fire, our capabilities, as it is easy to do so, to fall under the pressure our own head creates, it is so common to crumble under the words of the world which seeks mostly to mock. But why do we forget one crucial fact? We already walked a way of our Path, today we stand here, we had the strength to come this far, so what’s few more steps? No one knows how long the Path is, but take it day by day, one step at the time and who knows, we might just surprise ourselves…
In what do we trust? In who do we believe?
“The feeling of wanting and hoping for the better filled my broken heart, mending it just for a second. It was sorrow that brought me to my knees, but hope was the thing that pulled my tears out. Hope is a funny thing. A light in this endless night, a glimmer that we hold on to so blindly, mostly because, after that heavy load of sorrow, we look for something to help us carry the burden. We blindly turn to her, not asking its price, not thinking about its volatility. But hope can be a treacherous thing. It was for these people. I can feel them. Thousands of them. Holding and reaching their hand towards the wall, in unison crying and begging as if the Wall owes anything to them. To return their loved ones, to guide them wherever they are. I can hear their voices, feel their weeps, them calling. I can feel their burden. My tears as a memento to their suffering, my broken heart for theirs.”
(“The Lonesome Road”, chapter 2, The Weeping Wall)
Hope. It is a treacherous thing. It makes people comfortable, even in their deepest nights of despair, they sit and wait for salvation. Hope we misunderstand, blaming it for our downfall. But it is merely part of the solution, not its entirety. If we sit tight and do nothing, hope as all things, becomes meaningless. Our broken mind, our scared heart, contains so much strength unexplored. Rise, take the power of self belief you thought so strongly it was lost. Rise you broken, as the world is for us all. We deserve happiness, we deserve glory in its full potential. Rise, seize the day!
The truth shall set you free!
We lie. To others, to ourselves. Why? Because the truth is harsh, unforgiving and real. For that reason we choose to run away, towards the sweet embrace of lie. But live in lie for so long, wear faces that are not your own, soon enough you will start believing it. Soon enough you will find your humanity lost, as your head crumbles piece by piece. The past is always there. Sooner we accept our mistakes, sooner we can make new connections, sooner we can give our life back some meaning.
I am enjoying the Countdown to the Road, and now we are 2 days away! With this P.O.W done, it leaves us only tomorrow for content day before the launch. Tomorrow I will be taking questions on all social platforms, here, Instagram and Twitter, so if there are any who wish to ask me anything, please do so or even if you want to come and say hi I would be delighted! Wishing you a great end of the weekend and love to you all!
I have never experienced a block while writing one of these. Perhaps it is the consistency that clogs the so called pipeline of imagination that provides the lively inspiration where we draw our plots from. In my short time I have experienced some instances where my depression renders me useless, as the rage boils that every single letter I put down feels unworthy. Combined with the famous imposter syndrome you become a well timed bomb which destroys more then it creates. So the question beggs, how do we deal with it when depression sits on our shoulders, like a giant boulder preventing us to breath?
Distance gives perspective
Sometimes pushing through it is the worse option out of the two. No matter the strength we possess, and we all do have some even if it feels at time you are tired and want to give up, pushing through with your head against a wall could prove fatal. It is OK to take a break. Sometimes we can’t battle with our thoughts but rather we need to understand them, argue with your mind rather then ignore what it says. We all carry a burden. To some it is less heavy to the rest it is more, but never more then we can take. Depression is a condition that can not be beaten, it is a condition we learn how to cope with. You never beat your demons, you just learn how to live among them. So there is no shame if you fall from time to time. In a constant struggle, no one can win all the time. Perhaps people who don’t experience this won’t understand, but we fight a battle each and every day. So you have to remember. It is not the battle that is important to win, but rather the complete war. At the end of the day, we all are just human. We will continue to fall, continue to make mistakes, the important thing is not to give up, know that your life is worth it and sometimes take a breath. Distance yourself. Look things from a different angle and the solution will arrive.
What you do has value
Sure, even if I speak about writing specifically, I am looking at a more general topic in mind. Life. Whatever you do, you will have doubts about it. Questioning am I really good at this, should I even try, why do I even bother? Because you can. Because you must. We, the few who fight with our mind constantly, have the strength to fight for a better life. If no one told you, know this, it takes lot of strength to come on top of your thoughts every day. So never doubt you have what it takes to do what you want. We all doubt, it is in our human nature. Whatever we create, the more we look at it, the more it seems like it’s worthless. If you write 300 pages, reread it a dozen times, each time you gonna think of it as a worthless project. But to a fresh pair of eyes, it might seem as something beautiful. In this life we can’t walk alone. As much as we want to be alone sometimes, no matter the allure of solitude, we need to resist it’s call. People give you perspective. People give you direction. The right people can steer you, build you and put you down when you need to be. Life is complicated as it is. We can’t go in it by our own. There is never shame in asking for help, for an advice or for some company. Because it is a lone road ahead.
What was broken can be rebuilt
We all fall. It is an unavoidable event that life provides. It is our choice to stay down or to rise back up again. But never think you deserve the fall. Because I know, it is so easy to think we deserve the pain we get. The hard thing is admitting to yourself that you deserve some good in your life as well. That good comes hard. That’s why most of the time we choose to stay down, as it is the easy thing to do. But when you look what you get by doing so, it gets scary. The easy thing to do is not always the right thing to do. So get up. So what if you fall again? Don’t be afraid of it. Once you know the fall, the dark that it brings, you will fight for the light that awaits up top.
So here, I promised I would try to be consistent and here it is. Two weeks in a row, wow. I am trying to built this site, with consistent content I believe it can be a good thing. The Process of writing is my way of saying to those who feel the same as I do that they ain’t alone. The poetry I make is just my daily thoughts and emotions put to words. Perhaps it’s decent, perhaps it’s not. But I am willing to believe it will get to the point that the content as a whole will be better. I want to bring my short story project back so stay tuned for that. I want to say to the few who read these lines that I am grateful and honoured. Love to you all beautiful people and until next week, Harry.
I am sick of people wanting more. Pleasing their every need, indulging their every criticism leaves them always wanting more, opening the question why does the majority at the first sight of trouble disregard your accomplishments and good deeds and latches on to your flaws?
It is in our human nature, to please if not everyone, then at least the people we love. But where do we draw the line? After how many good things done does our desire to be good to those we love, turns in an endless struggle of no conviction? When do we admit to ourselves that we are fighting windmills, just pushing the heavy boulder up a steep hill, only for it to roll us over?
I wonder what’s the point
Yea, I know 3th post in 3 days, what? Is it possible I became consistent? Perhaps, as I threw all out of my life that distracted me, I am now more then ever focused on my work. And I admit, I have not done it on my own, as it was blatantly pointed out that I sorely needed the change. I accept a critique, be it from the work I do or the life that I try to un mess ( is that even a word?), be it as it is I try not to be a fool any longer and I accept perhaps there are things I know less about or things my eyes simply don’t see. So when someone near and dear to me suggested that I get rid of all distractions to get down on my work, I listened. But then I noticed a curious thing. The more you listen to people, the more you try to please them, you quickly see there is no end to their requests. One thing leads to another, you find yourself doing a Sisyphous task, where no matter how much you do, they always find flaws in your efforts. And I am fine with the occasional pointing out of the mistakes I do, but when it becomes constant, and it’s not just the mistakes that are being pointed out but your endeavours, your efforts, by people who do less then you, by people who sit idly by as life passes them, you begin to wonder, to who do you listen to? Who are you trying to please, as with each and every thing you do, the only thing you begin to feel inside is the feeling of your own self worth decreasing.
And I wonder now. To whom is my inner peace, my self satisfaction and self progress worth more, to those who apparently claim they know something I don’t, or to myself?
After all the mistakes done, I try to live by only one rule. Don’t be an asshole. As an old friend of mine said, there are many people in this world. To be an asshole is the easiest thing in it, but to be a gentleman, that takes effort. So put some in your life.
And since I try to live by that, I try not to be so cynical all the time, I try to give people a chance. But what I found, at least in my surroundings, is that all people do is talk. There is always a speech, there is always a cautionary tale of their life, with the moral story to not make the same mistakes they did and that’s it. With all that talk you would think that they would listen to their own advice. Some do, I can’t deny that. But look at the majority and you shall see, as if they think that talk is enough and it exempts them from following their own words.
The trick is your surroundings
And that’s true. My misfortune is I surrounded myself with those kind of people who just sit and observe your mistakes, never minding their own. You wanna know the trick for a happy life? Surround yourself with friends, people you can call brothers and sisters, who will push you, not pull you down. People who would dare to tell you the harshest of words when you really need to hear them, but who will as well motivate you to push against all odds. We have two families. One we are born in, which we don’t chose and have no say so over it. And the one we create ourselves. We can choose who we surround ourselves with, so even if you are in a toxic environment, don’t be afraid to leave it. Your own self worth and life depends on it, trust me.
It makes all the difference in your life, in your work, in your happiness. Who are we to sacrifice that, our own happiness for the judgement of people who do less then us and yet demand more?
Good friends are worth their weight in gold. We can choose to be alone. But solitude is addictive, once you experience the sweet silence, it can pull you in as nothing will ever feel the same. Same as it is our choice to stay with people who undermine us, people who claim our potential is low and that we can’t do anything but fail. So if life is a struggle, why not fight to find those who will shine the light in our life so when we return the favour, it won’t feel like we are doing less for nothing?
Your worth is always higher
What are we afraid off? Is it the eternal fear that if we shoot high the fall will be greater? But isn’t the truth that the fall is inevitable? We all fall eventually, so why are we afraid of something that is bound to come? Why not if it’s already destined to happen, what costs us more to try harder, to push more to see us greater then the rest of the world does? Maybe, just maybe, we will succeed and isn’t that worth it? That small chance, that slim percentage of success is worth the struggle. Because, the world will always try to undermine you, they will always try to sell your worth as less then it already is, so who are we going to listen? As the eternal question ponders, why is it easier to undermine then understand?
The parting words
It’s been eventful, these past few months, to put it lightly. With all that’s happened I try to find solitude and salvation in my writing and it helps. I thank you all, you beautiful people, on the kind words of comfort, on the inspiring thoughts of motivation. It really means the world to me, knowing that the words I write are not sent to the endless void as there are some who still hear it. So what’s next? I’ll try to be consistent, if not every day, then almost. As I am editing my third book and the second is on its way, I couldn’t be more proud of the effort that bears fruit. I am glad to see that even with bad tongues telling me it was useless, that I can prove them wrong. So don’t give up. Know your worth. Know your purpose. And always strive for better things, as you deserve them. Love to you all and until next time, Harry.
While I am working on new poems and projects that I will bring to this blog, right now words could not describe the happiness I feel, as I am proud to announce and reveal the cover for my upcoming book “The Lonesome Road ” .
Thanks to the amazing people at 5310 Publishing, this dream of mine is becoming a reality. The moment I laid my eyes on the cover I was speechless, you know the feeling like you are not really aware something is happening until it really happens?
This really lifted my spirits, especially after the ending of the last year which was soul crushing ( another blog post is coming about that so stay tuned) , so starting the year with this really warmed my heart. I couldn’t be more happy to share the story of the Lone Wanderer with you, for you all to see his journey and growth.
What is the “Lonesome Road” about?
I will try to be less vague and spoiler free. “The Lonesome Road ” follows the last man on Earth, as the world is barren and abandoned, ridden of all life, one man remains, roaming through the remains. He has no memory of the events that led to the end of his home, what happened to his fellow humans or even the basic knowledge of himself. So it is up to him to find the answers that wish to remain hidden, tackle with the questions that led to the world’s demise and find the hidden truth that his heart desires. But he must be careful, as the answers he seeks, the price might be his soul.
So what is next?
If you are interested, I would like to ask you to follow the great people at 5310 Publishing, stay tuned for more information and be ready when the book goes for pre-order. I would like to use this opportunity to say a huge thank you to the amazing people at 5310 Publishing, for making my dream a reality, thank you for giving me a voice to speak the words that lingered in my head and heart for ages. Thank you to the beautiful people who supported me, read the blog and posts, commented and liked the poems that started as a way of letting some steam out and turned into a proper passion. Being a writer is something I dreamt from an early age and right now thanks to you all, it is becoming a reality. Thank you and love to all.
For more information follow and check out 5310 Publishing: