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Fuck It All, and Write
The defiant art of bleeding onto the page
A Writing Manifesto
The page is a wild, unbroken horse, and I am the reckless rider with no bit or bridle. The world snarls at me as I write, demanding a performance, demanding restraint, but I am no trained beast – I am the storm, and the words are my thunder. This craft defies politeness; it declares war, refuses silence, and sings a hymn to the unruly heart.
Writing is the last rebellion, the final frontier where the self can still exist unfiltered, unedited, and untamed.
The world conditions us to censor, shrink, and sand down the jagged edges of thought until we are smooth, digestible, and forgettable.
But, to write – to truly write – is to spit in the face of that civility and declare, No, I refuse to be tamed.
The greatest obstacle to writing is not the blank page but the fear of what happens once words stain it.
We are raised to be wary of exposure, taught that truth is best left buried beneath layers of niceties and omissions. But if history is a graveyard of the voiceless, writing is resurrection – digging up the bones, dusting them off, and making them dance again.
Consider the writers who set themselves on fire for the sake of their work – Plath, Sexton, Woolf, names whispered like incantations in the dark.
They did not ask for permission or wait to be deemed worthy. They wrote as though their lives depended on it because, in a world that feeds on silence, sometimes it does.
And yet, the gatekeepers will say: be careful, be quiet, be palatable. They will tell you to write marketable things that fit neatly into genres, things that do not unsettle or offend. But the only writing worth reading is the kind that shakes something loose, makes the comfortable shift in their seats, and refuses to be shelved and forgotten.
The problem is not that people do not want the truth – they fear what it will demand of them.
To write without fear is to pull back the curtain and show the trembling machinery of the world, the raw, unvarnished humanity of it all.
The solution is to write anyway, to carve your name into the marrow of existence with the sharp edge of your keyboard or, if you’re old-school, your pen.
So fuck the rules, fuck the fear, fuck the waiting. Write recklessly, write honestly, write as though the whole world is listening and you do not give a damn.
If there is a single truth to this craft, it is this: the words that matter most are the ones they don’t want you to say.
Views be damned. Reads be damned. Follower counts be damned. It’s time! Time to grow a pair, put on your big girl panties, fuck it all, and write!