#scout can read and write! ah! how uncanonical

[rosainta]

Spontaneous

Image from 'Expiration Date' https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GLlLQ3LmZWU * * *

Author's Note:

Upon searching for some inspiration when I was feeling down, I found this short piece of writing I made back in July of 2023, a year ago.

It isn't perfect, and it depicts a Scout who is perfectly capable of reading and writing (how uncanonical! Gah! Shame on you, past self). Yet, I feel like the message in it was something I... just needed to hear, especially now, when I feel as if I'm stuck in this creative rut of comparison and demotivation.

This little thing just spoke it perfectly and offered me a bit of happiness that makes me feel that, just maybe, not all is lost. I don't know how or why I wrote it, maybe for the same reasons I feel today, but I am really glad I did, and I wanted to share it with you.

I hope this little vignette helps and speaks to you as it has for me.

Happy reading.

* * *

Scout just needed to start.

He needed to start sometime, otherwise, when would he ever?

He closed his eyes, sighing. His fingers traced the contours of every key with hesitant eagerness, as if he were trying to mentally prepare for a big event. But he knew that this wasn't the case, and he knew that the longer he waited there trying to find the "ultimate source" of inspiration, the longer he would be left in the future doing nothing. He knew that if he let this moment of dutiful obligation to himself pass, he would just procrastinate once more in the future, and he would forever regret not having taken the chance while he still had it. So, here he was. In front of the screen, keyboard beneath his hands, and his eyes weary with sleep deprivation and sheer will.

He suppressed the urge to compare himself to his past work, or to other authors, or to use lazy methods such as paying someone else to do it for him, and just do it. He also suppressed his urges to reread every paragraph and word and just go with the flow, just as he did on the battlefield. No turning back, just live in the moment.

Spontaneous.

Yes, spontaneous. Scout was good at that, he did it practically every day. Making witty jokes with the boys? Spontaneous. Bashing mercenaries' brains out as fast as a speeding bullet? Spontaneous. Confessing to Miss Pauling? Well... that one, not so much.

But God, why was it so hard when it came to writing?

Scout felt helpless against what he was feeling, and he hated it. He hated it with every nerve of his body. But when his nerves felt as if they were going numb, and that his heart was rising out of his throat, the hate he felt was soon overpowered by... whatever this... this thing was. Was it his perfectionism? His inner feelings of inadequacy and self-criticality? His fear of things ending up like they always were in the end whenever he started a writing endeavor such as this: abandoned, left in the dust with all the other unfinished projects. All the other ones that were once filled with sparks of inspiration, then left to die out in the chilling breeze of procrastination, perfection and comparison.

Scout didn't want this one to end up like them.

He couldn't afford to lose something as precious as this. He had made a promise to himself to keep this one, no matter how long or outdated it may become in the future: he knew that he wanted this one to survive. Why? He didn't quite know why. Besides, it was like every other one that he ever had before. It all started off with that high of happiness and creativity, then sloped downwards into a spiral of neglect. But there was something different about this one that wasn't like the rest.

Perhaps it was his own inner improvements that he had made in his personal life that made him tougher than he was before. Maybe it was even just because he had found a character within it that he could personally relate to, at least to the physical and mindset extent.

But he just knew that when he made that promise to himself, he would keep it.

And he would let it burn on until the world was ablaze.

Scout smiled as he saw what he typed down in his conundrum. A way of catharsis or self-soothing, perhaps.

573 words? Not bad for a first shot.

Scout knew that it wasn't as much as he had initially hoped for, but he knew inside that in order to get anywhere, especially if he wanted to keep his ever-sacred promise to himself, he needed to congratulate himself for it.

Be proud of the milestones you hit, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem. And break those high standards you set to yourself; you have nothing to prove to anyone except yourself. And if you can prove to yourself that you are, in fact, capable of writing something, even if it is only half a thousand, it should be a clear sign that not all is hopeless and that it is never too late to achieve these goals you set for yourself.

And that they are not impossible... if you have FAITH.

Scout smiled and shut off the computer. He had a long day ahead on the battlefield, but he knew that he'd be off a little better knowing that he had something to look forward to when the day was done.

Mission complete.