A Crazy Writer

A Reflection

On a whirlwind high…

I had been published—a thought that had became foreign to me. An achievement that I have often compared myself to others in judging what it meant to be successful. In any field that I find an interest or passion in, I begin to compare my desires to others. Yet, on a manic high, I decided to take the very thing I have kept private and expose it to the world—that I have a love for the arts, writing being my passion, and I wanted to share with everyone and anyone…who would listen. Normally, I would start to worry about opinions that others may have in reading something as raw and as deep as my blogs, poems, or stories. The worry feeling would become so suffocating that I would then retreat back into the “shadows,” never to be heard from again. However, I took one note that my mania behavior causes me to believe; that, in the act of determination and being carefree, inhibition would be thrown to the furthest wind and continue to stay there. After some time, I would return back to reality and I would do anything to rectify the actions that had occurred. In my writing, I had gone against that thought and just allowed everything I had written to float around the net in hopes that someone—or anyone—would understand where I was coming from, be shocked, laugh, or even take heed to what I had written.

The shocking and humbling results have been from friends, far and wide, congratulating me and sharing it with others. As exciting as it is, my anxiety is still running rapid on the thought that people will not like what I wrote. I continue to read the comments and it relaxes me a bit, standing firm in the belief that I didn’t care what people may have thought; the ones I cared about would support me and my craft.

In doing that, I prepared for those very people's constructive criticism…bearing down on their truth that may differ from my own. Continuing to be grounded and humbled by it all, I take all the notes given and put them towards other writings and publications.

My dearest friend told me that that my first publication was wordy, and I smiled. While she had explained her opinions and views, it made me think: how can I even explain my writing? Or how can I explain what influences me to write?

Everything that I write I actually hear in my head. An internal voice sparks the light in my creative consciousness. Many times, it comes out like word vomit; unorganized thoughts or emotions running so rampant that my fingers can’t go as fast as those thoughts. Lately, its been the adventures of my love life—a life that I had, again, kept quiet for years. The desires of both sexes are very real, but the biggest desire for intellectual connection drives my ventures with others, all reflecting in my latest writing.

Or even the fact that my thoughts are constantly running rapid, so that when I do get a downtime, the internal dialog with various voices would lead me to believe that someone would laugh or relate to what’s being said, even if it wasn’t physically happening. Some would believe that I am truly insane, however, it’s a reality I live with daily. Reality or those “voices” will, at times, take a life of their own and one of them will be motivated to write and explore parts of myself, no matter how bad or dark.

Explaining that would cause for a lengthy story. Trying to cram everything that I deem necessary or important into a small segment of time is hard. I'm afraid that people will lose interest. Writing, however, I tend to bypass it when I decide to write, believing that everything that I am creating doesn’t need borders or restrictions. The freedom in writing is there and my mind's false sense that there is none is lifted when that manic self is present.

So defining my writing; I don’t have one. I write whatever comes to mind. I relay the years that I have in writing, being triggered more when I am manic than when I am not. The voices take on a mind of their own and when I am at my most excited, they allow me to feel untouchable and infinite. I find the most pride in the rawness of my experiences and dismiss those who judge or disagree. That power…that raw power drives me, embodies me, and makes me want to share it with others.