Thirty minutes, excluding looking for a picture, but including editing, posting and sharing on social media.
That’s how long I will spend writing a daily blog post and that’s ALL it will ever be.
Until death do us part.
Us, in this case, is me and my imaginary master and lover Writing, with whom I have been for thirteen years.
The final six months had been a monogamous relationship until the six hour blog posts had robbed me of my days, my friends, my Life. My income.
It was no longer sustainable, and I ended what we had.
Bye bye writing, I love you, but I just can’t.
You’ve become too demanding, and you’ve taken over my life. Which would be cool if you could provide me with food and shelter in return. And we could afford cats.
Then I would forgive you the isolation, and the way you have been straining all of my friendships because of the blogging.
But given the circumstances I just can’t forget what you’re costing me.
I ve lost many friends, and I am looking forward to being normal.
But then something happened.
Two things happened.
Basically within a week after ending things with Writing, I could feel my strengths decreasing. Writing had put me in a place of power, and although I was fine with quitting exercising power through writing, whether it had been unconsciously or not, I had not foreseen the ACTUAL loss of power.
That not being behind my desk doing what I do best, was like Samson cutting off his hair: A very bad idea.
I solved that by starting a video series My Life in Bon Jovi Songs, which is running on my YouTube.
“Being” LS Harteveld (my pen name, and unofficially also my most real name) in front of the camera, and telling the same stories I would normally blog about, I got access to the same energy as when you, Writing, and me, were still together.
And for two weeks I did feel like I had made the right choice. Or “right” was not even the correct word! I had made the ONLY choice I could have made!
Writing six hours a day, is not sustainable if you re not providing for us.
It was hardly out of free will, more a survival instinct. We had been heading for a life of poverty, even homelessness.
You had left me no choice.
But even after I started making videos, and I reclaimed the version of myself I had been with you, there was this male voice, husky and tempting:
“Was if you lose me?
What if I, Writing, move on to somewhere else? To someone, my Love. And when your fingers hit that keyboard, three months, three years from now, or maybe even three days from now; Nothing comes out.
There will be emptiness, where I once was.
Will you regret it then, not giving your life to me, my Love?”
And I said to writing:
“I want you back. I love you, life without you is driving me crazy.
Today I made a video about submission in relationships, and all I could think of was you. Well, you and Mr.Big my lover, but definitely you too!
And I realized that’s what I had liked about you and me. Us.
That you were demanding and that I could submit.
I will submit to you again, my Lover. I will be with you thirty minutes a day.
And write myself into submission.
That’s how it will be.
An unexamined life is not worth living
About this blog
Is the first chapter of
7-figure Rock Star Writer part 3: Submission
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2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
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4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)
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