A tale of warriors on adventures and worries scared to venture.
There isn’t always a clear path when staring at a journey. Excuses are unacceptable. Walls are no reason. Spilling the ink is the only truth. Yet, warm masks cry reason.
Without aim or direction an image forms itself. Narratives aren’t born, they’re crafted from struggles. Pointless clicks and scribbles grab hold of the ether and drag down the fantasies pleasantly floating about. Shapeless as they may be alone, collections get named. Ink formed into abstract ideas discussing themselves.
Meanwhile cosplay myths and tales of pens run dry strike fear into the hearts of warriors beginning their path. Religions designed to confuse. Fictions more crippling to the wanderer than the stories eager for design.
But the true explorers don’t fall victim. They travel, even with the fear deep within their weary hearts. Once the traveler can’t travel they’re no longer a traveler. And true travelers grow sour without a journey to consume and speak of. They all wander in the direction of this blockage, this wall of mythical proportion, but only those brave enough to get close come to realize it is just an illusion turned myth. And then they never stop exploring. The hunger to find the danger drives them, like a junkie to find this monster they expected and never managed to find.
That’s the big secret. That’s the key. They just wander. That’s what wanderers do. Non-wanderers stay where they are. Venture nowhere. Silent of journeys to speak of.
To go on a journey can be pointless, but purpose comes from being on the path. It simply makes sense eventually. Not immediately, although sometimes it might. Empty valueless steps forward, as one envisions simply walking and a revelation happens one day. Then they who wander know where they head. Sitting and waiting for a theoretical moment of fleeting inspiration to fuel the drive leads nowhere. The drive to tell a tale must be programmed, trained into an ever growing permanence. Yet, this is only possible while on the journey. The boogieman is the tale of the weak who fear the path and want to veer others from it to grow their own worth. Delusions by cosplayers. Stories told from false inexperienced pretence. Stories told by those who’ve not yet learned what it is to be on the path of wander. To turn that wander into a journey. To return with a story to tell.