Is that what this is? Am I the only one who can’t seem to get it? 

I sit in front of a computer screen and contemplate over empty words. Type, reread, then delete. There’s this sense of dread that oozes from my fingertips whenever I write.

Nobody glances at things that are meaningless, it’s too inconvenient. So every story I create is fiction with a hint of reali – oh wait. Right, they’re just part of an imaginative world for display. To publish, promote, and satisfy the viewers. 

My body trembles with fear when I think of failure. It’s absurd, but it’s the truth. Trial and error, that’s what it is.

---

After long hours of reviewing and editing my old writing, I had my brother take a look at them. We both compared and contrasted everything. It took me by surprise when he said my new stuff was actually better than the old ones. It kept nagging in the back of my mind and this was the aftermath.