.

.

.

CONFESSION OF AN ONLINE WRITER

The skies here have bee gray. Yet, the atmosphere created is not of somber sadness, but rather a calm nostalgia to calm spirits. How strange that the deep rumbling of thunder, like a bowling ball rolling across the floor, silences your bustling anxious mind. Sometimes at night, deafening claps boom across the horizon as lightning burns a luminous light. 

I felt no fear.

I was smiling as I grew to love the pitter-patter rain and howling wind screams. Here, you can finally see your breath when it rains and that's strange as where I am is supposedly tropical. Such a strange phenomenon, yes. Yet, incredible in its own way.

Hey, loves <3

It's been a while, yes? Haha.

After nearly two months of silence from me aside from the occasional announcements, I finally opened up Wattpad to write—not a fictional story at the moment. I have to gather myself before I really go back to writing, but I am happy to tell you I'm slowly getting back to it. I just gotta find time. 

What I'm writing here to tell you how I am and how I am slowly recovering pieces of myself and me realizing how much I have been affected by the existence of the internet and how I found myself linking my worth to the acceptance of faces I don't even know.

This is my confession and I figured I should be transparent about it in case someone else out there might be feeling the same way I feel as a writer and maybe even as a person.

I've been a writer here on this platform for a long time. As of September 2020, I've been a writer here for six years. And the only books I've ever finished was Damsel In Distress 1 and 2, an Arcana Famiglia fanfic that still has a book that hasn't seen the light of day. And somehow, because of that, I feel unaccomplished thanks to my perfectionist self. For the past six years, I put up books and I put them down for two reasons and it's the same as everyone else who does the same:

1) It's not getting the attention I want it to get.

2) I realize the story and concept is flawed.

The first reason I can say is from my ego—I had some good amount of attention when I started out, especially after the Arcana Famiglia fics. People loved it and were praising me, and the amount of boost I got pushed me to make the second and planned the third. But late 2015 didn't get the third book because I had a lot of other wips and I didn't want to add another so until this day it didn't come out. I had a new star, Terror In Resonance—the book I keep revising and remaking with the same name. 

This year is the fifth or sixth revision and I'm baffled to see how determined I am to just push through with it. There was The Mourning Samurai too, it was born 2016 and still is not finished. I tried doing K fanfics and Dance with Devils, I also tried writing a Tokyo Ghoul fic and even a Steins;Gate one. Oh, and also a Karneval fic and Kuroko no Basket as well. All brought up and brought down when either it didn't get attention or I realized the story wasn't good enough for my standards.

Years I hounded for the attention I had once before and the perfectionist's desire to make an amazing story, but both things were chains that were destroying me as a writer, and this year I cracked and broke down because I was measuring my worth from the popularity of my works. I think the part that really got to me is how I notice people only reading the first few chapters of some works and then dropping it afterward. I tried telling myself that perhaps it wasn't to their taste, but the bigger truth might be that the hook wasn't enough. Maybe I write too perfect characters who don't suffer thanks to their already present skills. Who knows? 

I got used to the attention I got from my earlier years and when it slowed down in a abyssal amount I couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong with me and how I wrote. It definitely didn't help when I was in this comic project with some friends and my best friend blurted out that a lot of my ideas were horrible. And man, oh, man, my self-esteem just dropped and hit rock bottom. And everything seemed to be real when people get tired of reading my stories and I get greatly affected by it.

A sense of vengeance and thirst to prove him wrong fired up inside of me and I just started putting out book after book and it wasn't helping. I was just, ughh, so hurt and frustrated that his words became real to me. And finally—

It just hurts to write.

I couldn't do it.

Write paragraph after paragraph, hoping to do justice to my ideas.

But. . I just couldn't do it anymore.

For a while, I wanted to just secretly erase this account and forget it all. Maybe better to erase my proof of existence because I coudln't keep my promises. I wanted to finish a lot of books this year but my mental health stopped me and I grew to hate myself even more. "Why the hell did you make promises you can't keep?" My inner voice told me every day I couldn't meet my personal deadlines.

"Just quit already."

But then. .

I realized. . . I loved writing. 

It was a skill I've developed over six years. . Every failed story became my steppig stone as a writer and creative. While I was on break I kept drawing piece after piece, but not for one moment did my mind completely forget my stories. I sometimes thought how Kuroo might confess to Mitsuru or how Akari was going to feel jealous towards Subaru, or how Yoshie will finally admit it and open her eyes or even how Hotaru will overcome her inner demons. Not gonna lie, I keep thinking of the stories that don't even have first chapters yet.

After a month or so, I began to berate myself that I am good enough. I am not perfect and may never be, but I can't invalidate the fact that there are people out there who do in fact love what I write. Even to the point of rereading them over and over because it isn't finished.

And I swear, it touches my heart, loves.

But most of all, I realized that I wanted to finish those stories for myself and not for the likes and attention it might get. 

So, I formulated reminders and habits to limit my visit here and in notifications. I will, from now on, write in Google Docs so I am not forced to see the red dot on the upper right of my screen.

 I am sorry, loves. For worrying you. For my inability to keep my promises. You guys know I am human, and I know you guys want me to take care of me. 

Thank you for all the support, the kind words—it means worlds. It really does. It's amazing knowing there are people out there who are worried about my well-being and even others'. I will try to be less sad for your sakes, someone had commented about that before, haha. I am happier, yes, if you're wondering haha. I just slowed down my social media in general and it was a good thing.

I won't be as active as before. But I will try my best to answer questions and such. Feel free to dm me either in Discord (rai#2125) or Instagram or Twitter (both raitatsukiko). (Maybe support my art, too? Hehe.)

If you've read until here, thank you! Love you lots.

Love you guys so so so much.

Stay safe, stay hydrated, no hate, just love uwu

. . .

.

.

not a milktea question, but have you tried dalgona coffee?