It always bemuses me when other writers burst into an uncontrolled rant about how being a writer is supposedly the greatest occupation in the world, how they enjoy the process of writing, of reviewing and revising and rewriting, of creating something new and original, and about how much it fulfills them and how rewarding it is and everything.
You know what, fuck that.
I hate writing. Facing that empty piece of paper that’s waiting to be filled with fresh, original content every morning is the worst thing I can imagine. It’s so dreadful, I’ll allow the poorest of excuses to drag me away from it, like doing the dishes, sharpening pencils, or getting root canal work done. All because of that world in my head that constantly coerces me, almost as though at gunpoint, to set it free, out into the open because I know it’s the only way for me to maintain an acceptable degree of sanity.
Sometimes I wish I were more normal, less interested, less attached to the real world and real people, a mindless drone like all the others, numb, only caring about the basics of human existence: food and sex and television. Let me spend my life in a dirty, dusty garage rolling Cuban cigars for a living, let me toil away in a Bangladeshi sweat shop sewing shirts for Primark. At least I’d know how it’s done and what the finished product is supposed to look like, no fantasy, no creativity, no elaborate thought processes required. But instead I wake up every morning and I slump down at my desk, trying to give a manifestation to that world, that universe, that multiverse inside my head before it explodes.
It’s a beautiful, amazing, wonderous, almost magic place, but at the same time it’s also complex and confusing and scary, and any attempt to give it a closer look in order to be able to describe it and put it in words paralyzes me and makes me stare out of the window for hours on end because I’m afraid to unleash that world and let it become a reality.
And yet I know that I will never be able not to try to overcome that fear, because that wouldn’t be me. So I just keep going because I don’t know what else to do…