I Will Be Like "I'm Fine" And Then Another Fucking Event Will Occur

I will be like "I'm fine" and then another fucking event will occur

❀ Pansy n°1 = F*cking writer’s block.

I really enjoy writing.

Like a lot.

I think it’s because I have a lot on my mind and I thrive to get it out of my head. Like I don’t want to lose the ideas I have so I try to write as much as I can somewhere, everywhere. I literally have a note on my phone titled ‘Story ideas’ , and up to this date (the time I’m writing this) I collected twelve ideas without counting this book, or whatever this is. I have some ideas that are way more developed than others and some that are just fun things I thought about, but I feel like I could do so much with each of them. And I want, I really want to use all those amazing ideas and make them into the novels they deserve to be, but sadly… It always ends the same.

You see, dear reader, there is some sort of pattern that seems to come back in my life as a wannabe writer. Most of the time it starts with me having a dream or a daydream about whatever came to my mind this day. Then I realize that I really like what I’m imagining, that it’s actually really interesting and maybe it could grow into something more. So I continue to think about it for days, weeks, months, sometimes years and I end up with a full on story of ten novels and even a sequel (I may exaggerate a bit, but only a bit). And here I am, attached to this universe I created, to these characters I watched growing up and all the important events of their adventures I want everyone to know about, and I’ll be heartbroken to just leave it at that. To just leave it as a simple fantasy, a dream, a figment of my subconscious. I cannot possibly let it be forgotten, because I’ll inevitably forget it if I do not act and do something to keep it somewhere, anywhere. So comes the time to write, to finally put into words this story, this scenario that was entirely made up by myself and my creative mind.

Yet, when I finally have the motivation to write something, anything, this so-called motivation never comes alone. It always comes with it. You might be confused as to who or what I’m talking about dear reader. Well, I am talking about this horrible realization that writing is difficult as f*ck.

In fact, I always end up being lost in all the details of my stories. I always end up realizing that I thought of things, but not everything, and that I have now to choose the right words, the right grammar, the right phrasing to accurately depict the world, the characters and the adventures I have created. And this dear reader is so very hard.

Then I also have to think about all that’s in between the big events of the story to tone down the dose of action in the script, to show the character development, to exploit the characters' relationships and make the readers like them as well as relate to them. At this point, writing seems like a chore, a big task that is too hard for me to actually be able to finish.

Admitting that I actually started something and didn’t give up just messily writing down notes on a random notebook, I never seem to end up writing things that I like. Writing becomes stress inducing because I constantly think about what I have to write down after this exact moment for it to make sense and how I have to make some details pop out but not too obvious for the reader to notice them but not understand their importance. All in all my thoughts, ideas and anxiety create this jumbled mess in my head and I am incapable of writing.

To this date I have three started and unfinished projects. One that I started when I was like 12 or 13 and actually finished (well at least the first book or season because it was written as a screenplay) after having started at least four or five different versions of it. But as time flew by I ended up hating what I wrote so I decided to start it all over again this time as a novel. Yet I didn’t get far because I started questioning the originality and interest of this story that was in fact kind of childish. It was very important to me because it was the first ever thing I wrote down and I loved it dearly, but I inevitably left it aside.

Then much later I started thinking of this thriller based on a nightmare I had. So with one of my sisters we wrote everything down about the plot, the characters, the universe, etc… I even started writing but I never went past the first chapter. I was just unable to. I wanted to, really, because it has a lot of potential and I wanted it done but I dreaded writing about it because I couldn’t come up with correct phrasing and ideas of filler chapters. I was also so far ahead in my mind, already thinking of what could happen in the second book of this saga. I’m always thinking too far, too fast. So I have a second draft lying around on my computer.

Finally, recently I decided that I wanted to truly finish a book, that I was going to do it, and in order to do just that I thought of a simple love story which could fit in a tiny and single book. Like that no thinking ahead and finishing with ideas for an infinite number of books. So I took notes of ideas as they came, created the characters and found their visuals, all of that in a very short amount of time and I loved doing it. I was thrilled! It felt good to be able to do things so fast and smoothly. Then I started writing, it went well, I was inspired and I liked how I wrote, but came chapter 7 and I stopped completely because I was once again starting to complicate the task at hand. I was either distracted or not inspired or just lazy. So I stopped and a third unfinished draft joined my computer.

Whenever I want I could go back to either of those drafts and continue them, because deep down I know I am capable of doing it, of writing but I can’t seem to do so. I am just stuck with overflowing ideas but the incapability of fully writing things down. It s*cks… And it makes me feel incapable.

So I just have one thing to say: f*ck writer’s block.

✿❀✿

🔺Original work, please do not steal or copy. Thanks.🔺

- notify me if there are typos ;)

I don’t think I ever experience more joy than when I find a really good fanfiction . My serotonin just goes through the roof

from the bottom of my fucking heart. how are we supposed to live under these conditions.

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➺ Introduction :

This book isn’t really a book.

It’s more of a diary, a journal. In this I will simply put not only my opinion but my thoughts, precisely my train of thoughts.

Why you may ask. Simply because thinking is something I do a lot, maybe too much. I am what you may call an over-thinker. Even though most of the time I perceive it as some sort of curse for making me dwell on things too much, I sometimes find myself being impressed by how much one can think, by how one’s mind can go far and fast. So during one of my never ending insomnias I thought, why not write down those thoughts, those things you think or ask yourself about. It might actually help me write better and take away a bit of the burden that are those overwhelming thoughts, and maybe someone, like you dear reader, might relate to the things I write. Therefore I decided to give it a shot and simply put my mind into words, or at least I’ll try.

I don’t wish to speak too long in this introduction for fear of boring away some potential readers, not that I really care if actual people are going to read this or not, but I do have two more things to add.

First, I feel like I have to precise that I have not been an English speaker since birth. It’s a uselessly complicated way to say that I am still in the process of learning this language but I love it and I feel much more at ease writing in this universal language than my mother tongue. So my bad if I make some mistakes I try to proof read as much as I can usually but because I think in this journal I’ll just write as it comes I might make more mistakes that I might not see.

And finally, I simply wanted to address the meaning of the title. I always struggle to find titles for my books and novels, so most of the time I settle for something a bit abstract but still linked to the matter at hand.

Consequently, I decided to title this (whatever this is) ‘𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬’ because in French those flowers are named ‘Pensées’ which also means ‘thoughts’.

I originally thought of a word play with ‘forget me not’ and ‘forget me notes’ because I personally write a lot of what's on my mind in the notes app on my phone... Am I the only one to do that?... Anyway…

To conclude, as I said somewhere above, I don’t really care if nobody actually ends up reading this, I might even keep it to myself, but if you are really there my dear reader and it is not myself reading this page over and over again in order to find a reason to do something about this manuscript, I hope you will enjoy this, whatever this is, and if you don’t I hope at least I will enjoy it.

✿❀✿

🔺Original work, please do not steal or copy. Thanks.🔺