I find myself at a point of destruction. Do I crash and burn or fight and survive? Sometimes it seems all to easy to give up. After all, I’d rather crash than fight.
There is a character I invented a long time ago. His name was Zaki. I say was because never again will I use him in anything. I became attached to him. Some of you will never understand a writers relationship with their characters, so it’s ok.
He was a piece of me that I didn’t even realize I created. He was an out loud person. Someone who spoke their mind freely. He was dirty and perverted, always centered on the sexual aspect, never on love. Is easier to be sexually involved rather than emotionally. He drank to fill a null and void in his life and he was careless and reckless with his life.
This may not be me exactly, but I poured my heart and soul into this character and made him real in my mind. He was the male version of me.
I hate that. I hate that I take parts of myself and give it to this imaginary people on pages. I hate that my mind and my souls gets to live in these characters who have lives I’d love to live.
I often wonder what it would be like if I could be one of my characters. I’d be prettier. I’d be skinnier. I’d love more freely. I’d travel. I’d be what I wanted to be.
Then I realize something.
I can be all that I want to be. I have control over all of that. I can work harder to be smaller. I could take a little extra time to look pretty. I could let people get a little close to me. I could save money and take more trips. Only, it’s easier to just write other peoples lives instead of my own.
To be honest, I don’t really know where I was going with this. I think I just needed to get some things out of my mind. My head has been hurting a lot lately. Maybe too many pent up thoughts?