Writing as a hostage

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So, the thought of using a new platform for writing where you can set up your own customized timer to put a self-agonizing deadline on your back suddenly seems like a thrilling experience to behold.

Hence, without giving the mind much time to kick me out of the process of implementing it by creating its own hellish overthinking, I chose to hurriedly open up the browser, selecting the site, setting up the timer (30 minutes to be exact) and preparing myself to unleash the jumble of words that has been cooking up inside the head for days.

And I have to say, the whole new hostage kind of set-up ended up being a weird experience.

To me, writing is more like a gateway from the real world, a relaxing set-up created by a desperate mind which just wants to turn the ramble of thoughts into physical shapes, in the hope to find any form of sane meaning behind. But when there is a ticking bomb set right on the left side corner of the screen and without an ouch of mercy which mockingly dropping down to lower numbers every single seconds, it never provides that much needed comfort, instead the whole process invite an unfamiliar kind of anxiety, turning the once enjoyed experience into an interrogation. It feels like someone is pointing a gun at my head while continuously whispering, Yeah, I dare you to write those fucking words, come on, write, what are you waiting for?.

Now, in moments like this, instead of focusing on the things I’ve planned to write about, the attention is constantly diverted towards that ticking clock. It’s like this simple tracking timer that was customized by these very hands possess some kind of supernatural spell to compel each and every fiber of my body to not turn away.

Like a processed sailor, I’ve been stupidly staring at the timer for the last fifteen minutes, without finding the urge to look away. It's kind of a surreal experience, one that does not help with writing but makes you witness how time is slipping away from existence, how in the trace of losing time, you become nothing but a simple observer, witnessing the flow as nothing but a wasted object.

In the end, what I learned after wasting a good chunk of my existence staring at that stupid mocking timer on the left side of the screen was, well it seems like when it comes down to writing, setting up a deadline as a pointed gun will never help the stubborn overthinking mind to let the words out through that narrow exit, instead it will only let more rambling thoughts invade the already chaotic territory.