Saturday, 3 June 2017

What to do when nobody takes you seriously


First, you scream until you lost your voice. Not in public though. Search for a spot far from civilisation. Avoid forests, for hunters or poachers might think you're a mad beast and shoot you in the head.

Then you scream some more using all the curse words you know in every language possible. My recommendation would be Italian though. - Porca di quella pupazza!!!

When your throat is sore enough, you eat chocolate or ice cream. Especially if you don't like it so that you can throw up to liberate your soul.

Then you cry and ask the universe what is that you've done so wrong to deserve such terrible results.

I lost notion of time. I don't live, I work... twenty hours a day, even more, because my mind is constantly active even when I'm asleep.
I invest all I have: finances, time, mind, body, soul into pursuing one single dream.
I don't ask for charity, I ask for a chance. Cut me some slack, please. I am tired, my heart is sick of woe, my eyes are swollen from crying! And you... what to do you? 
You put sticks in the wheels all the way. Since birth. Mother***!!!

You pay professionals to help you achieve your childhood dream, but something always goes wrong. Months, years wasted... waiting like they are nothing. Time is of the essence for me! Five minutes are priceless. That's why I sit all day writing! 
  • The documents get lost,
  • You were there first, but others have the priority somehow, 
  • Random publishing companies want to take your money and bury you alive,
  • Some make you wait years before giving you a sign. - Really? It's your job to give a reply... how would you feel if you were the one waiting? 
  • The good reviews get blocked/rejected. And you have to beg and crawl in front of everyone for a kind word,
  • They humiliate you, wash the floor with your intelligence, and you have to bite your lips, express gratitude and smile for the sake of diplomacy and... from fear. Because they are bigger than you and if you stand up, they crash you instantly,
  • Friends tell you to change dream because a pop singer can't become a star without a voice.
And I ask, 
Have you even read ONE single word from any of my work?
No.
And why is that? 
....
Are you saying that I can't write?
No.
What are you saying then? That you want to see me dead? Because if I can't be a writer, I am nothing.
I am a writer; I am that, I am since I learnt the letters of the alphabet. Every single step I took in my life was toward this ULTIMATE DREAM. I sacrificed everything. E V E R Y T H I N G! 
  • When people have fun, I write.
  • When people watch TV, go to the cinemas, concerts, I watch inspirational videos.
  • When people sleep, I study, educate myself. I feed my mind, my soul, my heart.
  • When people spend their money on holidays, I spend them on software, programs, proofreading, advertising and so on.
  • When humans cry, I cry with them.
What do I do when nobody takes me seriously? When my work is considered a game, a temporary caprice, a mad dream, useless or arrogant? When my friends don't understand why am I doing what I am doing? When they pull me down on purpose or because they can't see what I see?
What do I do when everything seems to go wrong when I work so hard to do it right!?

I FIGHT screaming, kicking, and crying. And I write and pray. I pray for a break, for a tiny proof that I am not a human of INFERIOR BIRTH, proof that my work is valuable.

So, Universe, Yes, I am talking to YOU. I know you don't care about me one bit, but I am a writer, and I will NEVER GIVE UP.
Even if I don't become as great as CIORAN, when I will close my eyes I will die happy because I HAVE DONE MY BEST, despite the mockery, the countless discouragements, setbacks, disdain.

You push me to the ground, again and again, and again, but I will always get up. Full of wounds, scars, bruises, blood, utterly exhausted and overwhelmed by pain, I will fight again.

It's a long shot, I know, but I will never surrender. 
You ridicule me, 
Stab me in the back, 
Rip my heart apart, 
Spit on my work, 
Laugh when I crawl crying,
And I'll still stand, 
Till the last breath. 

Do you know why? 
Because I am a GREAT human being and writing is what I live for. If I give up writing, I give up breathing. And it's not a metaphor. 

Yes, this is a shout of extreme frustration. You might not understand it. You might want to tell me to calm down, take it slowly ... Please, don't. I can't even breath, my heart is about to explode. I don't live, I work since I was a child for this. I didn't start yesterday, a year, of five years ago. I started forty years back and I am tired... so, so tired. Life is passing me by. Universe, please, stand by me. Is it time, don't you think? 
What is life anyway?

***
If you like reading follow me on Amazon.
If you bought any of my books, please, take 2 minutes to leave a short (or long) review. Be generous with the stars, I beg of you.
Thank you and see you soon, amazing human being.


Image from Pixabay

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