~ My New Years Resolution for 2017! ~
Ah! Finally, it’s the NEW YEAR! YAY!
That was like 1 month ago? Well… It doesn’t matter, I have pudding, so I win. *sticks out tongue at you*
I decided to make one or at the very least try to… Whatever happens, I’ll post this thing. So, I will write this as a small story. Here it goes!
I step into the psychiatrist’s office and he looks at me through his brand new glasses. Of course he can afford them, he just stands there reading everyone’s mind… But, that guy is also me. Yeah, I’m my own bloody psychiatrist… No wonder I have psychopathic tendencies…
I sit down on the psychiatric bed and look up at the ceiling. I’m feeling rather comfortable in this thing. It lets me think.
“So, good morning, mister Dragomir. How are you doing today?” I’m asked.
I look over at my own clone and let out a sigh, then I look back up at the ceiling.
“Do I really need to do this?” I asked.
“No. You are free to walk out anytime. But…” he stops and takes off his glasses. “I know you won’t. You want to have this talk.”
I look at him, and I can’t read a single emotion on his face. No sadness, no happiness, nothing… It’s like he closed off everything about himself. His empathy looks like it’s at 0, but… That’s wrong. If he is me, then what I just said is false.
“Alright, let’s do this.” I said.
“Alright. So, how do you feel after crossing into 2017?” I am asked.
“Empty.” I reply.
It’s my instant reply for anything. Whenever someone asks me something, or I really want to see the real me… I only see emptiness. If I was a buddhist, I would say I achieved Nirvana. Technically, I did, but only the first two levels. Maybe I’m still trapped in the second one? There’s a trap there called absolute neutrality. What if I did? What if I can’t get out? What if I’ll end up an apathetic piece of crap human for the rest of my life?
“Mister Dragomir.” the clone psychiatrist wakes me up from my own spiralling doom.
“Empty… just empty…” I tell him.
“You don’t find joy in your life?” I’m asked.
“No, actually I do. When I’m writing something, anything… I just love the way I’m able to let my words flow. I like it how I can create the sentences and give life to my stories, to my characters.” I say and smile.
“Anything else?” I’m asked.
“When I’m playing games, I’m fully immersed in their stories no matter what. I love to play games. I don’t really mind losing, but I don’t like it when I aim this hate at myself and blame myself for losing.” I replied.
“Anything else?” I’m asked.
“When I talk to people… be it meaningless conversation or actual debates, but I’m always keeping a lot to myself. I never really allow myself to speak freely, so maybe that causes me to appear to be rigid, emotionless, or fake…” I said.
“Are you?” I’m asked.
“No…” I shake my head. “My answers are usually very complex… too complex even for myself. I like that. But I fear that when I tell my honest opinion from head to start, people will end up misunderstanding me or hating me… I don’t want that. It’s just an opinion, but I tend to strike a nerve one time too often.” I replied.
“I see.” he scribbles something on a piece of paper.
Looking into his mind, I read… ‘afraid to be appreciated’
It wasn’t ‘lack of self-confidence’, it wasn’t ‘uncertainty’, it wasn’t ‘fear of the unknown’...
No, it was ‘afraid to be appreciated’.
“I do like when I’m playing the guitar too… I can’t for the love of God get my head around playing a known piece, but I do love trying to fiddle and find my own ‘sound’.” I said.
“You don’t have a favorite song?” I’m asked.
“I do, but… I like the voice more than the guitar in them. I like the melody… the words… the image the song creates and the emotions the artists include within each sound.” I replied while closing my eyes, imagining the emotions and sensations certain songs evoked within me.
“Do those feelings… remain?” I’m asked.
“No… Just like everything else. Once I stop that activity, my mind turns peaceful, serene, calm… I lack even the smallest thoughts… Void…” I reply.
“How do you usually write?” I’m asked.
“I put myself in the shoes of the characters and emulate the entire scene and world within my mind just as if I was looking at a movie from the eyes of all the participating characters at the same time… The movement is in real time, and their emotions echo within me. If they feel pain, I feel pain. If they are stressed, I am stressed. If they are confused, I am confused. If they feel love, I do as well… I know everything about them, everything that makes them tick. Their minds, I don’t control them, it’s like letting a program run free, an AI, an alternate personality…” I reply.
“Do you ever find yourself confusing yourself with a character?” I’m asked.
“Never.” I shake my head. “I have a very strong sense of what is real and what is not.” I replied.
“What is real is your state of unhappiness. What is false is your perception of happiness within the books as your characters?” the clone says.
“NO!” I shout and then I freeze. “I don’t think so…” I knit my forehead and looked up at the ceiling.
“I see…” he scribbles something else on his paper.
‘Does not believe the real world can offer him happiness’ is written.
“Am I broken?” I asked.
“You don’t believe you are.” he replies.
“What do you want to do?” I’m asked.
“I want to write… and fly…” I close my eyes.
“Have you ever put yourself or anyone you knew in your books?” he asks me.
“Never…” I shook my head.
“Do you not see the main characters as a part of yourself?” I’m asked.
“No, their fears, their worries, their hates and desires have all been solved within me. I know the path they have to take in order to reach their destination. I can design it better. I can make it work… My life, not so much…” I said.
‘Fears his lack of control’ is written again.
“Will this hurt me?” I asked.
“Unless you let it, no.” I reply.
It’s a story… of course it won’t.
“Do you hate your readers?” I’m asked.
“Nope. I’m very happy when I hear from them, especially when they try to guess how my characters are going to continue their journey. It shows that they are interested in what I write. It shows that I managed to reach someone and offer them something, a moment worth spending within the world I created.” I replied.
“Yet, you find your lack of fame unsettling… Why?” I’m asked.
“I don’t know... “ I replied.
‘The first lie…’ is written on the paper.
“You want fame? You want to be successful?” I’m asked.
“Yes… but not with… no…” I reply.
“Speak your mind, please.” I’m told.
I sigh and try to gather my thoughts. I’m terribly confused about this question and how to answer it because I don’t understand what’s being asked of me or how I am supposed to answer it. But… maybe that’s the problem…
“I’m afraid of fame… That I will end up bathing in fame and forgetting about my readers. That I will write for success and not for the pure joy of writing…” I said.
“For the pure joy for writing?” I’m asked.
“Is it wrong to write for myself? To write as I want… to write as I desire… to publish my books with mistakes?” I’m asked.
“No. But why do you wish to publish with mistakes?” I’m asked.
“Because I never was able to edit them properly. I never managed to cut out ALL the mistakes… some always remained. They are noticed by others, not by me. For me it’s perfect, but it’s not… It’s bothering me, it’s hurting me… and I hate it when I think that I might not show the respect my readers deserve through this… I don’t want that!” I nearly shout.
‘Afraid of admitting his own mistakes?’ the first one with question marks.
“What of your family?” I’m asked.
“I’m asked to be perfect… I’m asked to be an exemplary being who doesn’t think differently from what they see as normal... “ I reply.
“Are you?” I’m asked.
“No… but it would be nice not be judged all the time… It would be nice if I didn’t need to be afraid so much of myself…” I say.
“Why are you afraid of yourself?” I’m asked.
“Because I don’t think like others do… I don’t see the world like they do. I can’t. For me it’s impossible to see the world as simple as others deem it to be… and this makes me abnormal, unnatural.” I replied.
Tears fall down my cheeks, but although I feel them, they are not there.
“Then… Isn’t it possible that the main reason why others can’t see you, why they can’t reach you, is because you don’t show yourself? Isn’t it maybe possible that the reason why your worlds represent your state of happiness because in the real world you show a made-up character? A mirror of yourself that keeps lying to itself about who he should be and how he should be?” I’m asked.
“But… I have fears… I have worries… I don’t see things right… I’m not perfect.” I say.
“The world doesn’t want perfection... It values imperfection for through it, they see the real perfection. What you have is a fake perfection of an imaginary world imposed upon you by others because you felt like you don’t have a place among them…” I’m told.
“What if I told them how I see the perfect world?” I asked.
“Is there a reason why you shouldn’t?” I’m asked.
“Wouldn’t the question be: would anyone listen?” I retort.
“Is it?” he smile.
“Huh?” I blinked confused.
“Ask it again, Mister Dragomir. What if you told everyone who dares read how you see the perfect world? What is the question?” he asked me.
“Would anyone listen?” I asked knitting my brow.
“Try again, but this time… without fear.” he told me.
“Erm…” I focus “Is there a reason why I shouldn’t?” I ask.
“Exactly. Is there?” I’m asked.
“Other people’s opinions? Personal and psychological attacks? Hackers?” I asked.
“Wouldn’t that just prove that what you said was something of importance? Who knows, maybe some of them will try to help you rather than attack you. What if they actually share the same thoughts? What if… you hold the key to a world they desire and letting you manifest freely is the way to do it?” I’m asked.
“Then… the only one stopping me… is myself…” I replied.
“So, do you like editing?” I’m asked.
“Not really.” I shook my head.
“Do you still do it?” I’m asked.
“Yes…” I nodded.
“Then… what do you think is the best way to solve this predicament?” I’m asked.
“Stop worrying about mistakes… and learn to enjoy how to edit?” I replied.
“You aren’t sure of yourself.” he smiled.
“No…” I nodded.
“Try again.” I’m told.
I focus a bit harder now and wonder about what editing means for me. It’s certain that it’s not my favorite part of making a story, and I forced myself to write with as few mistakes as possible, but… in the end I still need to edit a few more times.
In the end, I give up and shrug.
“How about this… What do you think your readers worry more about? The story itself or the grammar mistakes?” I’m asked.
“Erm… the story?” I replied.
“No, your answer is the grammar mistakes because you already are confident enough to know that your story is good.” he smiles.
“Erm... A bit self centered?” I asked.
“Aren’t you allowed to be just a little?” he asked.
“No?” I replied.
“Think again. Your life is in shambles because you let it be balanced by everyone else except for yourself. So it’s natural that it’s like that, but if you are focused a little more on yourself, they won’t have room to push you around.” he told me.
“So, the correct answer is: my readers care more about the story itself than my grammar mistakes.” I replied.
“Yes. So, in regard to editing?” I’m asked with a smile.
“Do what I can, and when I have the resources make it better?” I replied.
“Precisely. If you focus too much on fixing the past, you won’t notice the present and forget about the future. Advancing towards the future by changing the present is the correct answer.” he told me with a smile.
He was right...
“Well, Mister Dragomir! I’m happy you dropped by for our session, but our time is up. We made some remarkable progress today, but this isn’t a process of change that can happen in an instant. However, I can guarantee you that things WILL change.” he smiled.
“Thank you…” I told him and then got off the psychiatric bed and left the room.
So this is, my NEW YEAR resolution! Unfortunately, it isn’t in Ultra HD. Sigh…
I also know that chances are some will understand what I said here, while others will scratch themselves with their right hand on the left side of their head. Half of this stuff is meant for me to understand it, and the other half is meant for people to see a part of me, no matter how confused and insecure it might be. No matter how imperfect and afraid it is…
I know that some will hate it, some will love it, some will even learn from it, but… this is my truth and for those who understood, my resolution for this year.
Stay safe now!
Note from the author: Thank you for reading this article! I hope you enjoyed it and maybe learned something new! 🙂
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