My ideas remain unwritten. My mind runs on the same system it has since 2005—ridiculous ideas, none commercially successful, but ideas with some value, at least to me. They are things that can be transformed into something better or worse. Regardless of the final result, they were all given a chance.
Even when I gave up graphic design for a long time, the ideas for book covers and posters lingered in my notes, as fresh as the day they first appeared. My storage may suffer, but my heart holds no regret. A poem idea, multiple story concepts, things that make me think—they all sit quietly, waiting.
One day, I decided they amounted to nothing, that I’d never get back to them. The thrill of having a wonderful idea in the shower, then rushing to jot it down before it slipped away, doesn’t happen anymore. It’s been over a year since I edited a video purely for the joy of it, yet even now, edit ideas fill my notes, reminding me of what I once loved to do. They stay as a reminder that I need to get back to it. But as time stretches on, they start to feel useless, something I may never revisit.
Maybe I won’t. But in those rare moments when I do, there is bliss in knowing that I stored a particular idea or visual, capturing it before it could fade. They are records of inspiration, living because I’ve kept them alive. They only die when I forget. As long as they’re there, I don’t have to strain to remember what they looked like.
They can remain as first drafts, mistakes, even foolishness. But they still hold the potential to become something more. And maybe, one day, I’ll breathe new life into them. For now, they are enough— unfinished, but alive.
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