Earlier today, I wrote and published stuff with a topic I never gave a thought before: politics. Once I finished writing it all, I felt like feeling dead tired. And several thousands people liked the articles. Simply unbelievable. I am therefore feeling happy and tired intellectually.
It doesn’t stop there though. A friend praised me, calling me “a talented writer”. I hopped with joy and pride but well, what’s next? I feel the urge of creating something but I need to ask myself what I must create. All I can do is write, but what to write? A novel, a short story, a poem? In what language?
“A talented writer like you should write more articles like that. To give a real and useful contribution to the society. To give a deep comprehension to the public about what is going on,”he wrote. I did NOT write back. I did not thank him for saying so in fear of him regretting his own statement. Maybe he was drunk-commenting, but I don’t think he was. He is quite health-conscious so there is very remote chance to see him drunk. There is some part of me that begs him to blurt more praise but then I am disgusted by myself, my own greed of compliment. Yet, I know he told the truth because he doesn’t provide compliment so easily. He is erudite enough to judge my writing and I am glad to have him as one of my readers.
But I need to do more…
Yes, I do need to do more than come to the office at 8.30 every single workday in my lifetime, sit for like 8 hours straight in an overly air-conditioned news room, find news pieces from various sources only to paraphrase it, work with loud coworkers who don’t seem to understand my ultimate demand of silent working atmosphere to stay focused, avoid being a mediocre journalist who merely copies and pastes news from other more popular sites, get sleepy at work, get scolded when articles’ hits are lower than expectation or target, work like a slave for some people instead of myself and go home with dizzy sensation in my head.
I need a career revamp, but I don’t need bosses in any possible way. I need partners, but never employers. Still I have to figure out how I can survive without the benefits. How must I start? When? Where?
Perhaps I have got to keep waiting for some miracles to occur. In the meantime, I must write more and more and more, in a better fashion, in a more creative manner. Day and night I would be hammering the best literary works I can produce with one thing in my mind: that every letter written drags me closer to being a successful, financially stable and liberated writer.
Amen to that!