I wrote on a sticky note 2 years ago that I would have this story written by August this year. I’ve been jotting down ideas while going to the bathroom, using voice memos while I’m driving, keeping my laptop open while I cook dinner for the fam every night and typing what I can when I have clean hands. I dream of having a weekend to myself, to write in complete silence. But that’s not even close to my reality. I realistically have no “time” at all to work on this, but I’ve found I can make the most of small, quiet moments, to go inward and explore this story. This story has been in my heart screaming to get out. I’ve been writing it in my daydreams every second I get to zone out. I made a promise to myself, that even if nothing came of it, even if it takes me years, I would finish this project.
I knocked out a GIANT chunk of the outline the other day when I had a free hour. Just a few days before I felt like giving up. Art is like that, sometimes your work makes you feel like pure magic, others, the imposter syndrome stabs you and twists the knife, then kicks you when you’re on the ground, hissing at you not to get up again. I think if I give up on this project, a piece of me will die. This is the most authentic art I’ve ever made and it just pours out of me. Even if everyone hates it and it sucks, I owe it to myself to finish it. I’m writing all this because I know I’m probably going to be stabbed a few more times before this is all over. But, I have to remember these small victories, if I keep getting up, inch by inch, I will reach my destination.
Sabine Esmeray
2024-08-07 15:38:14 +0000 UTCPhantomhaze
2024-08-03 14:50:26 +0000 UTC