Crossed line

I crossed a line. I can never go back to where I have been. I look back over my shoulder and try to find my past on that dark and narrow path. It is almost impossible. I cannot go back. How easy it could be to just turn around and go back. But it seems like my feet are stuck to the ground. They just know how to walk forwards but not backwards. If I turn my head around, I still see this tiny red line on the path. The line I just crossed. I can never go back. Looking forward is the same as looking behind me. A dark narrow path. Not knowing what will come next. It almost seems like I am standing in the only light spot on the whole path.

I take a step forward. Write a story. Take another step. Read a short story. Take one more step. Write another story. While reading the short story, I think about its features. How it is written. What deeper meaning it might have. How the author managed to create this atmosphere. While writing my own story I try to adapt my new earned knowledge. Try to make my own thing out of it. Still, everything is new. Can I write it this way? Should I use more metaphors? Is my story engaging enough?

I crossed a line and can never go back to where I have been. I crossed a line when I started not only writing stories but also publishing them. Suddenly I couldn’t enjoy books and stories the way I did before. Suddenly, I had another point of view on them. I started to acknowledge the way they were written. Tried to learn something while reading which I could use later in my own writing.

But when I think about it for a second, one question appears in my mind: Did I lose my joy of reading? Can I only read books and stories while thinking about the way they are written without just getting lost in them?

I want to get flashed when I read a story. I just want to get lost in its world. I want to feel what the characters feel. Cry with them. Laugh with them. Fear with them. Forget the world around me. Just for the time of reading. Just for God’s sake. Once again. But I crossed this line. And I can never go back.

In my head is a dark and scary cloud. But there is also this ray of sunlight. It shines down in my face. Enlightens me. I entered a new world when I started writing. A world I have never been to. Have never thought that I would travel there. But I did. I was brave enough to take my chance and wrote down all my thoughts. And I entered a phenomenal world. A world full of new ideas, great stories and supportive people. Now I finally understand that it has never been an either-or-question. It is rather a question of what I want right now. Do I want to get lost in a world someone else created? Or do I want to create a world someone else can get lost in?

“It’s all a matter of perspective.” as Larry David would say. Guess I have to change my perspective.