Imagine feeling what isn't felt, hearing a voice that doesn't exist, watching darkness creep into a void, sailing where there is no water, walking a road you've never walked. I feel it all. I think we spend most of our lives doing the impossible — sailing without water, straining to see in the dark.
I'm trapped in a system that rewards papers, not skills — chasing a certificate, spending my whole youth working toward one paper meant to change my life. I don't hate that. But I wonder: why suffer all this time only to finish and find there's no work waiting?
I'm not naive to it. I'm fighting to find my voice, to feel heard. Shouting into a void, into a vacuum, just to find a little motivation among mostly indifferent people.
Hail to young writers like me, choosing to write while most scroll TikTok. I wish we'd unite — do the boring, unglamorous work it takes to shift humanity's perspective.
This isn't just my story. I'm sharing it as motivation for others trying to find their voice too.
Feeling what isn't felt
Each day dawns with a choice: do something, or stay the same. We overthink what people think of us, absorbing judgment that was never spoken. Most people are too busy with their own lives to focus on you. A few will always watch — ignore them.
Hearing a voice that doesn't exist
Growing up near the river, my brother and I would go quiet at night, straining to hear voices in the trees. It planted fear in us for years. We do the same with advice — collecting it from people we don't even trust. The more opinions you gather before starting something, the less likely you'll ever start; somewhere in that pile, someone puts out your candle before it lights. Listen to those who encourage you — then just start, and learn from the mistakes.
Seeing in a void, watching darkness creep in
You can't see without light, and you can't watch darkness arrive — it settles in before you notice. No matter how sharp or in-control we think we are, some things simply aren't ours to command. Some things we control. Some we don't.
Sailing where there is no water
You can't sail without water, can't buy a boat where there's no river. The secret is enduring the search — finding the water before you can ever set sail.
A poem that came while writing this:
I wish I sail on water, see the sunrise and its set,
watch the water turn clear,
climb slow mountains, feel the chill run down.
May late nights carry hope, hardship fade slowly, may I walk slower than most, drink the bitter water — and still receive what I worked for.