The End.

175 days since my last post.

For almost a year now (or about 47.95% of 2018)‌ I haven’t been able to post properly on my blog. In fact, it was back in May that I‌ last published something. It was a short fiction story that ‌I titled Twice Upon a Time.

I could cite several reasons such as academic work, internships, or freelancing taking up my time and energy making the blog take the backseat. But the truth is that I‌ feel that it was my choice as well. I’ve hardly done creatively satisfying work for what seems to be a really long time. I have been creating content, but truth be told, it wasn’t satisfying. I’ve taken out a piece of paper or opened up my blog to write, but to no avail.

But it wasn’t an extended writer’s block.

I would end up deleting the file feeling that it was unworthy. If I‌ couldn’t write stuff to satisfy myself, then was there a point in writing? It felt like I‌ was stagnant, or worse: going backwards. The best way for me to react at that point was to voluntarily push the pause button, even if it was temporary. I need a break to see the bigger picture which tied together where ‌I‌ came from and where I‌ wanted to go.

Throughout college, my blog had been a constant for me. Even when I wasn’t writing, it was a piece of me on the internet, thus surviving for ever. Even if I‌ couldn’t update regularly, it was still my fortress of solitude. Even if no one was reading, it still was a void for me to scream into and walk away without the abyss screaming back.

With that sentiment, I‌ had the choice between abandoning it or closing it down for good. While they felt similar, abandoning it meant that I‌ might come back for it. While I continue to write and consume information in other areas such as academics or a part-time job, I was no longer able to feel the joy of writing for the sake of writing. Creating writing seems to have whittled down to scribbling down ideas whenever I‌ get them in a notebook where they stay out of sight, and out of mind.

A photograph of my scribbled ideas.
Spoiler warning if ever I take up to writing these stories

At times when I revisit these ideas which usually happens only when I am writing down a new one, I can feel the excitement tingling. Worlds of words in my head ready to pour out on paper. Creating magical castles in the clouds punctuated by fireworks and lightning. Dusty trails leading to nowhere with the occasional poem about how melancholy has taken over.

These thoughts subside as well and I carry on with my mundane life. Somehow, the magic is missing. Writing no longer seems fun: it somehow feels like a chore. I neither have the excitement when I start to write nor the fear of being judged for what I write. I seem to have gone numb, like a jaw after a dentist misfires their anaesthesia.

Once is by chance.
Twice is a coincidence.
Thrice is a pattern.

On yet another instance as I was looking through my blog, I came across a tag cloud.

A tag cloud showing a set of words that I frequently use on the blog.
Kill. Dark. Death.

A tag cloud, for those of you who may not know, is a collage of words usually compiled from a group of content based on the frequency of the words used. In my blog, the tag cloud was generated from the user-generated (read as me) tags that I had manually inserted into each post on my blog.

Truth be told, these tags are quite a bit dark if I looked at the bigger picture. Or maybe they are darker than what I would like my stuff to feel like.

This was another point in life when I realised that I should take a break and look at where I was headed, instead of reaching there and then looking back with regret.

So is this the end?

I guess it is time for me to kill off my blog. This will be the end of the blog as I know it for two major reasons:

  • I’ve not been able to write regularly.
  • I am no longer comfortable with this writing style.

This means that I want to consume more content from the outside world and remove any blockers to my writing habits. This conscious change need not mean that I am letting go of what I already have – it means that I am ready to gain what I didn’t already have.

This conscious change to how I consume and how I express myself won’t come cheap. It demands me to sacrifice my comfort zones and in exchange offers an environment to try out something different. It’s a lot like deciding to walk out of your house and sail into the storm.

“When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”

Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

I’m not killing off my blog. It is a process of rebirth. If you’ve heard of a phoenix, then this is the right place to write a quote about how it burns itself and is reborn from the ashes. Cue my quote:

To feel the earth beneath my feet, I have sunk to the ocean floor
To be reborn anew, I raise my hand and knock on Death’s Door.
When done with life, the proverbial phoenix burns bright
Only to arise anew lighting the sky of the night.

If you have been here for a long time on my blog, you’d have probably seen me and my musings masquerading as stories and poems on my blog, I can only say thank you for your support, even if it was silent. I do make one promise: to keep writing more – not just in quantity, but more in variety, even if I don’t get to share it online.

The end

A GIF of the words "The End?" being typed out on a typewriter.
The question mark is the answer

Published by

Karthik

Jack of many trades, master of none

4 thoughts on “The End.”

  1. My heart sunk when I read “this is the end of the blog as I knew it”. I felt every word like I were talking to myself. Looking forward to reading more from you, KK! ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

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