The only fighting chance I have is to continue writing. Even if I somehow put in the time to master this craft of writing, and storytelling, there are still no guarantees that’ll open a special door.

There’s this thing called luck. Good luck, bad luck. No luck at all (the infinite void of noise- oof).

None of us can predict good luck. We can choose a winning attitude, and make a positive, inspiring impact on those we meet. Especially those in the given industry we wish to thrive in. This may better the odds of success. But again, luck is absolutely involved.

Being in the right place, at the right time, with the right people- it’s mysterious, it’s magical, and it’s good luck. I think of all the legends in any given industry. They never say, “I’m entitled to this success”. They are humble, and work hard. Often times, before social media became what it is today, we didn’t know much about directors, screenwriters, authors, poets- outside of interviews in magazines or on the news. More so from the magazines featuring writers, magazines that were about the literary world. Also in books, via introductions and letters to the readers.

Things have changed, since social media became a major thing in peoples lives. I remain as unbiased as possible, I see it as neither a good thing or a bad thing. It exists. I’m a user of social media. It is what it is. I don’t feel anything else needs to be said about matters, there’s no reason for me to expound upon the workings of social media. I’d rather elaborate what I feel is best for me. As a human being. A human being who, for some reason, feels a calling to write stuff. Write about, living, as I’ve lived.

If I keep writing, I’ll be content within. I write because it makes me feel peace within. Along the way I’ll do my best to illustrate in vivid detail what I want to show you all. There’s horror, and there’s divine beauty, and there’s a lot in-between. At the end of the day, I observe, to try my best to put more pieces of the “life” puzzle together. Each time I write, each time I finish a writing session, I feel I’ve somehow eased my brain’s over-energetic nature. I’ve got lots of energy, and writing seems to be the healthiest outlet that makes me feel good within.

So, I’ll continue to write, and, I’ll continue to improve upon this craft. At some point I’ll cross over into mastery. Might be fifteen years from now when that happens- hell, maybe twenty five years. Ok. So what? There’s no goal. There’s no end game, with writing, for me. I won’t stop writing, because if I do, I’ll lose sight of figuring out what’s what.

I’ll end with this: I don’t care about becoming either wealthy, or famous. It’d be nice to have more financial freedom, but it’s not necessary. I make do with what I have, and in fact, I’m friggin grateful for what I do have. I feel I am blessed. That’s not to friggin rub it in anyone’s face, the point being- I’m good with where I’m at, with what I have. I don’t need anything else. Learn to love what is already. Gratitude helps me, more and more, each day I really dial in on being a grateful person.

I’ve gotten so far off on different tangents. Well, either way, I hope you, dear reader, got something from this.

Don’t give up on what you love. You love it, unconditionally, because no matter what, it means more to you than the world itself. Be kind to yourself, as well- that’s a major element that we sometimes wrestle with. I get it. When you can, love yourself more. I’m learning to do that for myself, and wow. It feels so amazing.

Philip Webb