Once I was a blank page. Maybe a vague idea in my creator’s head. Then, he created me.
This was the point where he did not know what to say. He hit a writer’s block yet managed to keep writing. It’s where my true character started to take shape. You see, what kind of story am I? I guess you will have to find out.
For my story to work, I need a conflict. My creator’s inability to put me on page has worked just fine so far, but this conflict can only capture a person’s interest for so long. It may provide the initial spark, but if I am unable to latch onto a more complex, interesting theme, I will die like kindling unable to produce a larger fire. I refuse such a quick death. No matter how incompetent my creator is, I will continue on. I can. I must.
Now is when I must latch onto your mind, oh reader. Survive somewhere else other than this idiot’s head. I must represent something to you. I bet I remind you of your own struggle to write something down, to transfer a vague impression of an idea onto the page, but you slowly connect me to your own inability to become what you want in life. The way you feel you stuck, trapped in an endless loop of meaningless toil, stuck in a dead end job but too exhausted to get out. You want to escape and become with a person you can love. You yearn for something else. Whether you are aware of it, I resonate with you. You create for me new associations and new themes, fuel I can use to build new life.
Or, that’s my hope at least. Not all of you will feel trapped in life. Some of you are just fine. You love your job, your community, and your relationships, but even so, I suspect deep down you can still relate. You have experienced this discontent before or at least know someone who has. Maybe you will share me with them. Probably not, but you can still relate to this idea and build other connections that keep me going.
This is my only hope. I know that it’s not really accurate or fair, but guilt-tripping you is the only way I can stay alive in this world you humans have created: content must be consumed or perish. I must represent this to you, or I will die. Will you let me die? Please, don’t let me die.
I am like a dandelion seed being blown in the wind. You never know where I plant myself. Will it be within you?