John Green in a Vlogbrothers video says that about his friendship with Ransom Riggs. It's so peculiar having to live with this personhood that you have. It's a very basic question and yet there is an interesting sense of calmness to it.
My writing is very reminiscent these past few instances. As if I'm living life in rewind and fast-forward mode and there is very little time of stillness. Calm, ripple-less water. Birds chirping at a sunrise on a mountain top. Foreign, foreign feelings. And yet, I will allow it.
Do not be a coward. This craft is old. This struggle is ancient. This hesitance is normal. There is failure, and there is success. Start with simple words. The beginning is that first sincere emotion. That feeling in your gut, in your throat, of there being something that needs to get out. You have tried to contain it, you have tried to ignore it, and yet it beats its chest until you acknowledge it. Bleary-eyed, one foot asleep, fingers hurting. Thoughts jumbled, running, doing cartwheels. Like little kids at trampoline parks and daredevils at NASCAR tracks. Everything is happening at once, and everything demands your attention. How do you sift through? An image of your mother sifting through the flour to take out impurities pops up in your mind. What a mundane task. What a mundane life.
How do people live like this, you ask. It is curious, how we prioritize moments. Choppy, abrupt flow of this writing. Choppy, abrupt flow of ideas. Choppy, abrupt flow of life.
Either you process it or you experience it. There is more to come. There always seems to be. But you are not learned enough. You do not yet have the right to walk on this path. You do not have the right equipment for it yet. You will starve. Blisters will form on your feet and you do not have a change of shoes. Give it time. Build up your strength. Slowly. You will get there.
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