As I try to click the ‘New Story’ button on the Medium dashboard, I am gripped by fear. It raises my heartbeat and I find it difficult to breathe. It reminds me of all my past embarrassments. All the broken dreams flash past my eyes. The rejected romantic proposals, the flunked entrance examinations, the unnoticed blogs, the failed attempts at singing, the inability to sustain relationships. All the needles insert themselves into my heart at the same time. I wince in pain, gasping for breath. This makes me think, may be I should not click the ‘New Story’ button on the Medium dashboard.

Even if I was not the biggest loser on Earth, still writing on Medium would not make any sense. What could I possibly derive out of it? Hundreds and thousands of people are writing here. None of them is getting paid for it. It is such a waste of time. It is a luxury meant for developed countries. In India, I should rather be worrying about getting an MBA. I should be thinking about my future. What if in the old age I run out of money, get a bald head and my penis shrinks? There is a great chance that I am selling myself an impossible dream. This gives me all the more reason not to click the ‘New Story’ button on the Medium dashboard.

Even if I do write for the sake of creative spirit, who is going to read it? Why would anyone read me? I have nothing to say or write against Christianity or Islam that would generate buzz. I am not a divorced unemployed mother of two whose manuscript has been rejected by a string of publishers. I am not a lawyer who has quit his job and has been trying to work on a novel for the past three years. Although I do imagine a lot of things while masturbating, writing as a sadomasochist 21-year old woman in first person would be quite difficult. So even though I want to, there is just no use of clicking the ‘New Story’ button on the Medium dashboard.

Apart from the above mentioned futility, there is a huge disadvantage also involved in writing on Medium. Wherever I go for a job interview in the future, they would look me up on the internet. They would find my Medium posts. They would get to know that I have fungal infection on my penis, that I masturbate, and that I am confused and depressed about life. Not only is the candidate extremely ugly, his testicles are not aesthetic, and his mind is all fucked up. Who would employ me? It would even affect my romantic life, if such prospects were to exist in the future. Even the relatives would start avoiding me. This points to only one conclusion. I must not click the ‘New Story’ button on the Medium dashboard.

Even if I ignore all of it for my love of writing, I would be putting my reputation as a writer at a huge stake. What if I start writing crap? How unforgiving was I to a friend who thought he could dance, but moved like a constipated pig. Or, to the failed cricket player. Or, to the horrible singer friend of mine. My Karma would catch up with me. All the friends would come across my writings and laugh at me. This thought sends shivers down my spine. I must not put myself in such a situation. I must preserve my writer reputation. This gives me all the more reason not to click the ‘New Story’ button on the Medium dashboard.

After all the reasoning I do decide to go away. But I fail to do so. I want to write. It doesn’t make any sense. But I want to write. The world is full of crazy possibilities and something would come out of it. It would be incredible. Bliss. To make good happen it is essential that I click the ‘New Story’ button on the Medium dashboard. Each time.