Immortalised.

I like to think that one day I will be immortalised within my writing.

It’s not that I won’t be remembered. I’m sure those precious souls who have remained a constant will treasure their memories of me. But I’m well aware that in time, memories fade – and so do those who have memorised them. As such, I wouldn’t mind if a piece of me remained in this world, even if it was only through mutterings on a page; a transcribed thought or a rambling blog post.

Hence, I suppose, this particular excerpt.

My dear friend Erin created this blog page for me. She lovingly crafted it with only one desire – that I take the time to use it. I have to admit, I’ve failed her in that regard. I’ve had multiple opportunities to make a coffee, boot up my ancient laptop and spew forth a bucket of words onto my blog. Heck, a few times I made it as far as the front page. But something held me back. Something stopped me from doing what I’ve loved for as long as I can recall – and I think it’s safe to say that “something” was fear.

I remember in Grade 7 I had a crush on this boy named Daniel. I used to waffle about him in my diary – countless trivial, repetitive sentences detailing how he spoke to me in Ancient History about Nintendo games or some other such nonsense. And (this I can’t quite comprehend, although perhaps it predicted things to come) I was obsessed with getting him to read my nonsense. I had this overwhelming desire to plonk my Winnie the Pooh journal in front of his nose and say “Look how much I like you!” As if that would somehow force him into planning a future filled with mini Jayne’s and Daniel’s. Ridiculous, is it not? And yet, a very tiny part of me was proud of that girl. Proud of her gusto and passion; her enthusiasm and drive to go after what she wanted. I don’t think she really wanted the boy either… I think she just wanted her words to be read.

(Quick note – I did get him to read my diary once. He drew the Tassie Devil on one of the pages. Ah, bless. I did swoon over that one.)

Fear has always been my greatest stumbling block. I am fearful of being mercilessly ridiculed – something that happens all too often through the faceless monster known as the internet – and of discovering my biggest passion is actually my weakness. I’m also afraid of overcommitting again (a story for another time) to the point where I can’t commit at all. I’m even afraid of realising that I could make a livelihood out of this, if I so wished. All of these fears have led me to shutting down the side of me I love the most – my creativity.

I won’t tell you how difficult this post was to write. I figure the important thing is, I actually wrote it. It isn’t my finest piece; nor does it warrant any praise or sharing on the Twittersphere. It may be the last post I write for a while… or maybe it will be the first of many. I don’t know. I don’t have the answers to where my passion is going, or if it’s going anywhere. All I know is that today, I defeated fear. I grabbed my sonic screwdriver and I followed The Doctor into the unknown. I took back a shattered fragment of my soul and breathed life into it. To be immortalised within my writing would be nice… but for today, I’m just content I managed to write at all.

#writing #fear #dream #passion #immortal #life #love #desire