When I was a junior high school student, I used to always carry this notebook with me wherever I went. I had been inspired by the storytelling of this video game Metal Gear Solid, so much so that I had a fictional story of my own I wanted to put on paper as quickly as I could. I found myself writing and brainstorming whenever I could. One time the P.E. teacher yelled at me to drop my notebook because I was supposed to be stretching and following the teacher’s instructions, instead of furiously scribbling away into my notebook. At the time no one could really understand why I had this ambition, this passion to write. Looking back, I’m not sure I could understand either, but it was this thing I got myself into, and within three months I had 200 pages filled with my clumsy handwriting.

I have to admit now that the novel that I had written was pretty poorly written. I tried to salvage it with a lot of editing and rewriting. Ultimately, though it was just something I had fun sharing with a few friends. It never amounted to more than that.

I look back at that project, and I’m left with a sort of envy towards my past teenage self. I had been driven by a weird frenzy of creative energy. For whatever reason that energy has kind of waned and faded away over the years. I became less and less confident, less and less secure with my creative skills and ambitions. As I got older, I did come to have this feeling of inferiority, like all the stories I wanted to create were already done, and told much, much better. The older I got, the more I identified as a consumer than as a creator.

Still, I don’t think the creator in me ever disappeared completely. There’s still a tiny part of me that wants to create and share, and dreams that it could be successful. I don’t know what exactly that part of me would consider as success, but I would be very happy with being able to creating something that’s worthwhile, that a few people could experience and be provoked/inspire by, that might even earn me some money.

Not that I have many creative talents. I don’t know how to draw well. Actually, I can’t really create anything that could be visually beautiful and enticing, as I’m not versed in computer graphics, programming, or photography. I’ve done basic video editing before, but I think I’d feel quite insecure if I was hired for that task. If I have any noteworthy creative talent, it’s really only in writing, in lines and lines of words, and even with this I’m not sure if there is much talent to showcase.

Regardless, though, that ambition resides within me, however tiny may it be. Floating within my mind are stories and words that I’d like to fill blank pages with eventually. I sincerely hope they can be impactful, not only to me, but to the few (or maybe even many?) people who’d be interested. The story that I have in mind – with the current working title being The Jackass that I Am – I hope is one of many of my creative endeavors that could be supported and enjoyed. I daydream about projects like these being crowdfunded on places like Kickstarter or Patreon. And then I psyche myself down worrying that what I create wouldn’t end up being good enough or wouldn’t be very marketable.

I definitely need to brainstorm more at this point. I need to once again, be like that teenage kid carrying around his notebook everywhere. With passion and energy like that, I wonder if I can start having a more specific and more engaging creative project, something that other could feel good about supporting and investing in.

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