I always knew I wanted to write to be like the authors who touch your heart , or crush it so deeply that even their fiction seems more concrete than reality. Those who create in me a crazy urge to break free and away from the world that bounded me for a lifetime only to be a part of something that enchanted me for a couple of hours.
It sends me deep into retrospection afraid of what I want to find or to admit that I already know my answers.They are so powerful you feel emotion more strongly than you can imagine. They scare you, that you might break apart piece by piece just by syllables from words alone. They change something in you ,without indulging in the complicated network of knowing you.They can manipulate your emotions which is scary ,yet fascinating. I’d love to meet authors who plunged me into their brians, captured me by their claws through words alone.They altered my reality, or atleast how I perceive my reality.
But I’m afraid I am small in front of them. They show things and create a world so strange that it binds people.I’ve always wanted to do that , I’ve never been sure if I really could . They seem strong, certain they can plunge into the farthest corner of their minds transport the darkest ideas with eloquence. I’m afraid to even venture my thoughts astray from my comfort zone. I’m afraid I am not as creative, as perceptive as I perceive myself to be .Maybe I’m deceiving myself.Maybe I was never made to write. Maybe all I have is a pipe dream of a teenage girl who in all honesty is just mediocre , sometimes less than it.
Fame is not what I desire . I want to impact someone like they impacted me . Leave a handprint of their mind.Transcend deep secrets to strangers in the vaguest words ,let them imagine the product of the working of my own brain.Give them freedom to create a memory yet control the frameworks of their imagination.
What I get stuck in is the technicalities of writing and free flow of my brute brain which doesn’t create something beautiful ,like my mentors did but rather something so plain that I’m afraid everyone will just step over it and they won’t be the one to blame.I feel I lack the I intellect , the instinct but what is terrifiying is my certainity to go ahead despite these restraints.I am a mortal being with irrational desires and illogical actions.Stupid. Human.
One thought on “Brute Brain”
Funny way to define “writer”. What dictionary were you using, I want a copy of that?
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