https://medium.com/the-writers-reach/why-writers-need-a-personal-myth-667e2a253b7a
Your inner story shapes your voice, choices, and creative direction.
A personal myth is the inner story a writer uses to make sense of their creative life. It gives direction, meaning, and emotional coherence.
#personalmythology #myths #writingcommunity #medium #writer #InnerLife
The crisis arrives when the accumulated evidence becomes impossible to ignore:
“I got what I was chasing, and it did not become what I needed.”
That moment feels like collapse.
But it may also be the first accurate perception in years.
The question is not only:
“What should I do next?”
It is:
“What kind of thing did I think I was looking for?”
Essay 👇
https://reviewsrantsandraves.substack.com/p/the-wrong-map-category-errors-misdirected
#ExaminedLife
#SearchForMeaning
#InnerLife
#HumanCondition
#WrongMap
#MeaningMaking
#FalseSelf
#LifeScripts
WildWords – Lord of the Flies
The flies come first
as rumor,
black letters of punctuation
in the cellar air,
small restless witnesses
to what I have not buried.
They find the hidden place
before I do,
the sweetness gone sour,
the secret body
given back to its elements.
I thought death
would announce itself
with trumpets,
or thunder,
or at least
a proper lament.
But here it is
in wings,
in the frantic scripture
of a thousand tiny bodies
writing circles
around the bulb.
Lord of the flies,
lord of the unclean corners,
lord of what ripens
when I refuse to look,
you do not create the death.
You only reveal it.
You rise from the wound
and make it audible.
You gather
where something has ended
and been left unnamed.
So I stand in the basement
with paper strips hanging
like sad yellow prayers,
with poison in the air,
with a broom in my hand,
and I know
this is not only about flies.
Something in me
has also gone untended.
Some old grief
has softened in the dark.
Some resentment
has been born in bitter warmth.
Some fear
has bred in the damp boxes
of the soul.
And the outer world,
faithful as a mirror,
begins to reflect what is within.
The dead thing calls forth wings.
The buried thing
becomes a cloud.
Lord above,
but Lord beneath even this,
teach me to descend
without disgust,
to find what has died,
to name it,
to remove it,
to open the window
where I can,
to let the clean wind
do its slow ministry.
For even the fly
is a witness,
even decay
is a kind of bell,
even infestation
can become annunciation
if it leads me
to the hidden corpse,
if it leads me
to the truth,
if it leads me
at last
to bury what is dead
and bless what still
wants to live.
THE HERETIC
A kind of loneliness comes from being misunderstood by your family. My mother wants me to do Sandhya Vandanam. Chant the Gayatri Mantra. Face east. Fold my hands the right way. She wants a performance she can witness and take credit for. I understand this. I refuse to comply. I am too tired and too old for rebellion. I call it self-preservation, a refusal to hollow out what little interior life I have managed to build by filling it with someone else's beliefs. They call me a heretic.. a […]https://ridiculousbharath.wordpress.com/2026/05/13/the-heretic/
Young activists attempt an armed attack that fails, leading one to abandon her comrades.
Exploring violence, beliefs, friendship, love against societal crises.
La Mort n'Existe Pas ,2025, dir.Félix Dufour-Laperrière ,Quebec.
Animation / Drama
W/t subs
https://fmovies-net.com/movie/988099-la-mort-n-existe-pas
#film #Animation #Francophone #Drama #Activism #SocietalCrises #InnerLife #Quebec
C. L. Nichols
The 🫠 ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ BBC 6Music 🎶 #NowPlaying Bot - Radio 6
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