Writers don’t read. We write. S2E14 —Pepperwood
Let’s talk about me for a second
I don’t have a writing persona yet and I definitely need to work on my writer’s outfit. So you may ask yourself, Chris, how are you even crafting these love letters? How does it feel waking up and having the next blog article in mind? Do you have a Miller alarm clock set, are you sleeping in Nick Miller fanboy pyjamas or at least wear a flannel shirt whilst writing?
Truth to be told, I s#!t you not, I am just rocking a black and red flannel shirt. Guilty of charge. But that’s one of the rare cases. Usually I simply wake up. All this time I am dressed like an every man, one of the unsung heroes of daily struggles, sitting in front of a computer or my notebook and pouring my heart all over the keyboard. Pretty unspectacular, I know. Medium.com says I already wrote more than 200 words as of right now, and I don’t feel that guilty anymore to leave another episode review with a blank text. Check.
So what about my outfit? Well, I don’t really pay any attention to that, and this does give me creative freedom to focus my powers towards writing. As you know, writers write. They don’t read. They don’t really think. They don’t dress or think about dressing up. Writers write.
I think I’m fine.
Unrelated comedy of the episode ..
What’s my pogo?
We are worried that you’re not gonna make it.
Make it to what?
Just in general, because you don’t take care of yourself.
.. and connecting on that
Listen. I am 29 years old and radiated Nick Miller energy all over my twenties. And believe me, in a probably less attractive and only partially funny and charming way. I felt the Nick Miller label hanging on my forehead for the last, let me think, 7 years I would say. Having people worrying if I will ever do something with my life. Having myself worry about that constantly as well.
And while it absolutely doesn’t matter what background, education or other characteristics I have, it always comes down to the person him/herself. In that case, it always came down on me. People projected their hopes, dreams and lost ease onto me, and it always was their calling if I was a person worth worrying or envying about. Think about that for a minute.
As I am inching closer to my 30th birthday, I get the feeling that I am finally ageing into a part of my life that feels right. Where things of the past slowly but surely start to make sense, where I connect the dots and see the meaning of so many tough aberrations. I am noticing goosebumps all over my body right now .. it is like I’m reliving some major turning points of my twenties. What a strange and simultaneously triumphant feeling I have to admit. I am proud of my chosen path as it allowed me to come closer closer to my true form .. like a digimon discovering the second evolutationary level up, I feel like getting to mine. Slowly, but surely.