Writer — Humanity
Story — Our Survival
This is how we’re gonna thrive for millennia to come.
This is how we have survived billions of years.
And this is how we’re going to survive another billions.
Words, cascading — circulating.
Round and down — in circles, in lines.
When sorrow strikes and anger erupts.
When joy bursts and anxiety creeps.
We pour it out — in prose, in poems, in drawings.
We let the stone, the chisel, the quill, the ink — speak.
Possessed — we let our minds, hands loose, in charge.
We spill, we spit, we scrawl — screaming, shouting, on paper, on screen.
This is how we have survived billions of years.
And this is how we’re going to survive another billions.
Fountain of knowledge, streaming.
One consciousness to the other — we sow.
It’s us.
It’s our story.
Words — our most powerful force.
This —
is how we will create, shape, mould — the world.
This —
is how we will forge, flex, bend — our reality.
Us — borne wordsmiths.
For as long as breaths cycle in these bodies.
For as long as blood courses through these vessels.
We write, we speak, we express.
We tell our stories —
We thrive.
Author’s note: A good friend recently told me not to stop writing.
You see, the reason I haven’t been online as much lately is because I’ve gotten a full time job starting next year and I’ve been revising and reviewing my notes, preparing myself for a new chapter.
I have not a clue if I’ll be able to juggle multiple things at once next year.
And I told my friend so.
I don’t know if I’ll still be able to write as much as I have these past few years.
My friend told me I should still write, even if it’s just every now and then.
I had a lot of thinking since that conversation.
I’ve been experimenting with cutting down writing for a bit lately — focusing a bit more on my personal life and my upcoming employment.
My husband is taking his days off and we’ve been spending a lot of quality time together for the past week.
Here’s what I learn from my recent writing slowdown.
I can’t.
I can’t cut down on writing.
It’s like asking me to breathe less air.
Is it even possible?
Most importantly, do I want to?
I cannot explain to you but I think many of you understand without me having to try too hard to explain —
that feeling when you finish a piece.
I suppose it’s why you’re here.
Some of you are probably here purely for the money or for the friendships but all these years I’ve been here, I have learned my lessons and established my own reasons. It’s —
You — these beautiful connections across the globe.
Knowledge — there is no shortage of learning.
Peace — the serenity and pure bliss generated by the simple act of writing.
This is how our kind has survived for a long long time.
While so much, so many have perished with every age and cycle, we endure.
We’ve been learning from stories.
Words — passed down from one generation to the next.
If you ever doubt your writing. If you ever doubt if your words matter, stop for a second and think.
Think of everyone who will benefit from your stories, the knowledge you’re about to share. Think of those who will reap the benefits of your insights, experiences you’ve lived. Think of those who sit alone with their sorrow, thinking, feeling they’re alone, that no one could possibly understand.
You won’t be able to stop.
And you shouldn’t.
You know, deep inside— your words matter.
You matter.
This is how we have thrive for millennia.
This is how we’re going to save Earth — our home, and thrive for another millennia.
Write — tell your story.
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