Keywords: pain, fears, tears, inspiration , blog , life , love , mental-health , writing
Then it suddenly hit me, and the realizations came pouring in. It was not anything else or some kind of mysterious force out there in the universe that was stopping me from writing; it was myself. Along the way, I created this absurd standard that filtered the way I write–or should write, in this case. I forced myself to believe that thoughts, emotions, and opinions had to meet some sort of standard of validity before they deserved to be put into words. It made me think that each word must be worthy of its existence. Because of that, I have hesitated to write anything that would eventually reflect what I truly felt. This is probably why I was so afraid of writing something so pure, raw, and genuine, not because it merely expresses my pain, but because it immortalizes the pain. It makes it more of a reality to confront, it makes it undeniable, and leaves a mark etched in a place where my fingers can trace.
https://pennednotionslm.wordpress.com/2026/07/08/when-the-ink-dries
Leave a Reply