The Cry of Broken Cycles
Story H.
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Throughout years of experimentation, I have come to gain an understanding of the difficulties that arise within the world of Creative Writing. Whether that be writer’s block, a lack of interesting synonyms, or an unbelievable surplus of impossible-to-decide-which synonyms, I have begun to recognize a pattern of struggle with one sole thing. With every poem, memoir, and story, I have inevitably ended up with feelings of self-loathing at the hands of my artwork. The Cry of Broken Cycles has been the first piece of many to transcend this self-inflicted rule, even surpassing it to the point of pride for my work. This is why, out of many pieces, I have decided to showcase this one as a display of my progress not only as a writer- but also as a person. Although simple, I hope that someone will relate to this piece as much as I do.
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Creating something in and of itself displays creativity in its truest form (as is the root of the word). Being able to ignore voices of doubt or negativity and write something original is an amazing thing, and a candid display of creativity that is utilized far too little.
