Creative work is exhausting.

It doesn’t matter what it is; anything that involves putting a little bit of you—your thoughts, vision, observations, dreams, hopes, fears, etc., and taking all those, distilling them in a form that can easily be consumed by someone else other than you.

It’s exhausting. Draining.

I… knew that doing this challenge wouldn’t be easy.

I also knew that while necessary, social media can be a cold, uncaring trap this early on in the process.

I’ve felt the cold, dark void of silence before—I’m no stranger to it. But it’s been so long since I had to care, and wow.

Boy, did I care a lot this time, huh?

I’ve done this before. Posting, promoting, self-marketing. I’ve tried to make a go at writing before, too. Pure amateur hour, different motives.

I wanted the clout before.

The small slice of fame.

Maybe a tiny stepping stone into my 15 minutes.

This time was different; I want to learn, and I want to improve what I already know. Of course, fame isn’t supposed to factor into that.

But this is writing.

Yes, I taught it to myself by just reading a lot, then doing it, and then doing it again.

That’s what I did before. That’s what I’m doing now.

But of course, it’s not enough to just keep on doing what I’ve already been doing.

I can’t improve with only my own critique.

I can’t improve with no one on the receiving end.

I can’t improve shouting into the void with only echoes of my own voice to keep me company.

I am pouring my heart and soul into this.

In every output I publish.

I think this is the first time that even I can’t accuse myself of half-assing things, or cutting corners, or saying “it’s good enough” like I always do.

This is the first time I truly, truly wanted growth.

What’s also irking is that it’s not even the challenge itself that might just end all of this, I mean—the challenge itself is actually proving to be quite easy, some minor organizational issues notwithstanding.

That in itself is already a moderate achievement. The past me wouldn’t have been able to commit to this, not for this long.

But the silence is haunting. The silence is muffling the voices in my head that drive me to push further.

I don’t want a pat on the back.

I don’t need a noncommittal congratulatory remark that basically boils down to “good for you!”

I would even appreciate someone telling me to shut up because they think my writing is weak.

I just want someone else’s voice breaking the silence besides my own.