I Look At Your Dead Blog

I look at your dead blog,
Not a single update in over two and a half years.
You were so avid about it,
Writing those juicy sex stories,
Some fact, some fiction,
Other’s a combination of the two.
Writing was your dream.

I look at your dead blog,
As I am reading over your old entries,
I am reminded of how much more talented I thought you were than me.
The biting jokes,
The shameless sultriness of your words,
The glorification of promiscuity,
Your potential still glows.

We began exchanging e-mails,
Instant messages and video chats.
We would talk every morning.
You believed in my writing,
You would proof read my posts,
You taught me the difference between than and then.

I fell hard.
We made plans for me to fly out to Toronto to see you.
You grew angry with me when I told my ex-girlfriend I was going to see you.
Your unreasonable, female jealousy took hold.
You told me you wouldn’t see me.
I went anyway to prove how serious I was.
Your Eastern European coldness was unmoved.

I walked the streets of that fucking city a broken man,
Holding my hand out, imagining I was holding yours.
Every moment felt like a fucking waste.
I ate those lonely, silent meals.
I drank beers at bars staring into my glass,
I smoked weed at the Hot Box Cafe while writing shitty poetry.
I cried myself to sleep in my cheap hostel room.

I returned to California,
With a tattered heart,
Embarrassed that I was so naive to believe I could prove myself.
A bit of my romantic innocence forever lost.
I wrote motivational pieces to give myself hope.

I hated you for a long time.
I was quickly forgotten by you.
I couldn’t even look at your pictures without the pain returning.
Now when I open that folder,
There’s the merciful feeling of indifference.

A picture of your first baby is your default on Facebook now.
Your priorities have changed.
You have found your happiness.
I look at your dead blog.
Writing was your dream,
Yet, I’m the one who is still pounding away at the keyboard.

~Raul Felix

Read: Empty Chair
Read: She May Have Given Up On You
Read: Heartbreak

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog
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Onward To 2016!

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Sometimes all you need to fix your soul and situation in life is to pop smoke and get the fuck out of Dodge. In the latter part of 2014, I found myself in Upstate New York because of a temporary job that I couldn’t turn down. After working the gig for a few months, cuts occurred and I was out of purgatory. I then traveled around the North East for a month and settled into a lovely little town that caught my heart named Ithaca.

I arrived on a bus from New York City a little after midnight on a blistering cold February night, toting only a backpack and a small duffle bag. With no friends or family in the town, I set off to start a new chapter in my life and put into place some life principles and habits I’ve been pondering around in my head.

“It’s not the daily increase but daily decrease. Hack away at the unessential.”
-Bruce Lee

I asked myself: What professional principles do I need to ingrain into myself in order to take my writing to the next level and move up the ladder of professional success? What kind of habits do I need to develop in order to become the kind of man I want to be? I figured I needed to do at least two out of four of the following every day:

Work, Work out, Read, and Write.

When I wasn’t sure what to do on a day, I just figured out what I can do in order to make two of these things happen. Did I work my bar job today? Mind too fried to write? I’ll just work out. I need to let my body rest, and I don’t work at any of my jobs today. I’ll read and write.

As simple as it seems, I didn’t always hit the mark. Dates with pretty ladies, random nights of debauchery, riding my motorcycle to visit my Ranger buddies, and at times, the laziness dragon caught me. Yet, those days when I did I hit the mark happened more often than not.

My output with pieces this year was pretty low compared to 2014 when I was pissing off people with sand in their vagina on Thought Catalog and making a name for myself. I began to read and write more poetry and gain a deeper understanding of it. The few articles I did write for Thought Catalog this year I was very proud of.

For This One Day, She Made Me Forgot was one of the hardest pieces I’ve ever written. While other pieces have been tough to write, this one was a deep knife cut per word and each sentence caused tears to pour down my face. I was emotionally drained upon completing it and had one of the deepest sleeps in my life.

29 Things I Learned By 29 showed that I have more going on my head than my quest for fame and pussy. It also has generated the most fan mail for me since The Division of Generation Y. Thanks to Ryan Holiday, I got to interview one of my favorite writers, Tucker Max. It was pretty fucking tits to interview a man I looked up to since I was 19.

“To be an artist means: not to reckon and count; to ripen like the tree which does not force its sap and stands confident in the storms of Spring without fear lest no Summer might come after. It does come. But it comes only to the patient ones, who are there as if eternity lay in front of them, so unconcernedly still and far. I am learning it daily, learning it through pains to which I am grateful: patience is all!”
-Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters To A Young Poet

Those of you who have followed me since my early days have noticed how dramatically my writing style has changed. Those of you who are new, probably have noticed how different a lot of my pieces are from one another. I have never wanted to remain static as a writer. I want to throughly learn, explore, experiment, and develop myself in this art form. Only through constantly pushing myself in new avenues and approaches will I become the versatile, honed, and unique writer I need to be in order to be placed among the greats.

I love writing my panty-wetting, heart-wrenching poetry and essays as much I love writing my politically incorrect, misogynistic asshole rant pieces. They’re just different aspects of my personality.

Women have been the light and bane of my existence. That sums up my attitude toward the fairer sex for this year. I’ve been on dates and had some flings with some very lovely women and have had my heart stomped by a couple.

I have made a good, little life for myself in this small town. A lot of people know my name and face. I have a few cool friends that I hang out with regularly, and I’ve been to a few random college parties. Also, I got fired from one bar job because some chick recognized me while I was working behind the bar and told the owner I wrote a bunch of articles online that are offensive to women. She did me a favor because the owner is a worthless sack-of-shit who was jerking me around and not following through on the promises he made me. I found a better establishment to work at afterwards with an awesome manager who actually does what she says she is going to do.

Solitude was the main theme of this year. Most of my time, I spent alone. I started the process ingraining the principles of success into my life: Running the hills of Ithaca in the snow, reading poetry by Charles Bukowski and Edgar Lee Masters, watching every single documentary on war I could find on YouTube, putting my mind at peace by riding my motorcycle, swimming in Cayuga Lake, slinging drinks, and writing.

“You cannot repress anger or love, or avoid feeling them, and you should not try. But you should be careful about how you express them, and most important, they should never influence your plans and strategies in any way.”
-Robert Greene, The 48 Laws Of Power

You can expect more output from me in 2016 than in 2015. I needed to take a step back and reconsolidate my life. I have also been working on a project that I will I announce when I feel appropriate. I have found a serenity within myself that has allowed me to tame some of the demons that have held me back. Thank you for your continued support, and I cherish every single one of you for reading my words. Onward to 2016!

~Raul Felix

Read: Onward To 2014
Read: Onward To 2013
Read: 28 Things I’ve Learned By 28

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog
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A Few Maxims On Writing

Keep the ugly,
Find the beauty in the ordinary,
Find the ordinary in the extraordinary.

Write what you know,
Write what you don’t,
Make up the rest.

Take what an academic says with a grain a salt,
What a troll says with a smirk,
What a fan says graciously,
What a lover says as flattery,
What a best friend says with a shot of whiskey.

You’re not special,
Give it time.
No one is waiting for your genius,
Your genius is waiting on you to do the work.

Show up everyday,
Write something great,
Write something good,
Write something mediocre,
Write a ton of terrible pieces.

Struggle,
Hate yourself,
Feel like a failure.
Learn from those greater than you.
Struggle some more.

Lose all hope.

Show up everyday,
Write a ton of terrible pieces.
Write something mediocre,
Write something good,
Write something great.

Feel great.

Check your spelling and grammar.
Be scared to share your work.
Do it any way.

Know the rules,
Fuck the rules.

~Raul Felix

Read: Keep Moving Young Man
Read: How To Find The Greatness Within You
Read: The Witch In My Dream

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog
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How Much More Do I Need To Bleed?

They say that it’s easy to write,
That all you have to do is bleed on the page.
After feeling the blade of that knife so many times,
One begins to wonder…

How much more do I need to bleed?
Until my fucking soul can be at ease?
Until all those fucking thoughts in my mind are laid to rest?
Until I can at last be fucking content?

Each time cutting yourself,
Reliving memories, events, conversations,
Long since forgotten by others.
Picking apart, dissecting, and analyzing,
In search of that moment of raw humanity.

Eventually the blood stops flowing,
The cut scabs over.
Yet, the soul grows restless,
Needing to expose more of itself to the world.

The bleeding becomes addicting,
The emotional pain becomes a validation of your worthiness as an
Artist.
A benchmark which you judge yourself by,
To see if you truly pushed yourself.

The words are bouncing around in your head,
But it needs your blood to come to fruition.
You cut yourself open once again,
Bleeding out slowly.
As you are reminded of how painful it is,
You begin to wonder…
How much more do I need to bleed?

~Raul Felix

Read: What It Is To Write
Read: She Was Traveling Through My Country
Read: Why Should I Write About Her

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog
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29 Things I Learned By Age 29

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A couple of months ago I turned 29. Another year passed where I read a ton of books, had new adventures with different women, made new friends, traveled, wrote, and kept trying to be a better man. In celebration of another year of beating the Grim Reaper, I have put together a new list of lessons that made their way into my baboon mind. While I still don’t know jack shit about life, I’m probably qualified enough to give you my subjective opinion in list format.

1. It’s OK to have separate groups of friends for different aspects of your personality. Not all of your friends or acquaintances are going to click with one another.

2. If you’re a writer who is published online and you don’t make your entire living off your writing, keep that shit separate from your day job. Don’t ever tell anyone at your place of employment whom you don’t sincerely trust that you write. All it takes is one freedom-of-speech-hating coworker with a fragile ego to fuck you over.

3. The moment you think you have women all figured out, you don’t.

4. The right guy doesn’t always get the girl; sometimes it’s just the guy who happened to be at the right place at the right time.

5. It seems that no matter where I go to in the world, people feel trapped in their hometown.

6. Yet people always seem to have a sense of pride about where they grew up. Be mindful before you talk shit about it.

7. A cute chick’s #selfie that is pretty much the same as every other #selfie she took will get 100X more likes than whatever deep, intellectual shit you have to say.

8. A 19-year-old said to me upon hearing that I’ve been to New York City, “Don’t you think it’s the most amazing place ever?” I said, “No. Because I’ve actually been to other places around the world.” You can insert whatever city you wish into that statement. I’ve been to enough places to know that each city has its beauty, its unique quirks, its culture, its one-of-a-kind food, its slums, its overpriced tourist traps, and its hidden treasures. Quit trying to compare one iconic city to another. Just enjoy the city you’re in and explore as much of it as you can while you’re there.

9. “Normal” is subjective. From ages 18-22 I didn’t consider training and going to war to be anything special because everyone I interacted with on a daily basis did it. It was just what we did. Looking back on it, I think to myself, “Holy fuck, I used to do that shit?”

10. Everyone you meet in life has something to teach you. Listen to what they talk about and ask questions. Most people have one or two things they are passionate about, whether it’s sports, food, gambling, music, drugs, money, books, guns, cars, history, fitness, video games, motorcycles, sex, or writing. The list of possible knowledge is endless. Even the lowest, most worthless piece-of-shit human being you meet can teach you how not to act.

11. Hard work does not always equal success, but success is not possible without hard work.

12. Though I am not religious, I have a statue of the Virgin Mary in my room. As a Mexican-American, it’s a symbol of my culture. It gives the place where I live a true feeling of home. You must embrace whatever gives you comfort.

13. There is no glamour in being poor. You know who glamorizes the starving-artist lifestyle? Middle-class suburban kids who can count on a check from their parents when the bohemian life gets too tough. Then there are those of us who know that if we borrow money from our parents, they may not be able to pay their bills. Or some of us don’t have that safety net at all.

14. When you’re a writer, it creates an emotional imbalance with any person you are dating if they have read your work. They know more about you than you do about them at the beginning stages of courtship. It feeds into your ego that they know things that take the average person weeks, months, or even years to reveal, and yet they still like you. Yet you fail to realize that you’re the one who is more emotionally invested. You’ve shared your heart and soul to a person who may only have a passing curiosity in you.

15. Don’t let politics and religion get in the way of friendships. I have conservative friends who can’t believe I am friends with tree-hugging, fetus-killing, smug-ass libtards. I have liberal friends who can’t believe I am friends with gun-toting, women-rights-oppressing, Obama-hating conservatives. I simply don’t care how another person chooses to live their life if it doesn’t affect me. Part of being an open-minded person is accepting other cultures’ ways of doing things, even if it goes against your own belief system.

16. Treating someone with respect is the best way to start a relationship with them. Either that person will prove you right and will keep your respect or they will turn out to be a piece of shit and will lose it. Yet it’s better to respect someone who doesn’t deserve it than it is to disrespect someone who deserves your respect.

17. Time equals love. Judge a potential mate by their actions, not their words. If they’re not giving you any of their time, they don’t really care about you.

18. The mainstream media gives the populace outrage porn, and a majority of people are masturbating to it.

19. One of the best compliments a soldier can get from his comrades is “He’s a good dude.”

20. It’s human to feel jealous—of someone’s success, girlfriend, and good luck. You don’t have to let it negatively affect you. You can use the jealousy as fuel to make yourself chase after what you want.

21. People who constantly talk about how America is losing its values or how life was simpler and easier in those golden days have no understanding of history and view it through rose-colored glasses. The 1950s was an age of the nuclear family, wholesome American fun, and economic prosperity. There was also the Korean War, the impending fear of a nuclear destruction, and the Jim Crow South.

22. Find a place that makes you feel insignificant. One of my favorite things to do is swim at Cayuga Lake three or four times a week. Not only is it ridiculously beautiful, it also reminds me that whatever problems I have aren’t that significant or whatever I am working on isn’t that big of a deal. It humbles me. This body of water has been here way before I was and will be here way after I am gone. That’s some Zen shit right there.

23. Lots of people are cowards—emotional, physical, or moral. If you’re able to muster up the courage and show strength in these aspects, you’re doing way better than 90% of people.

24. Be honest with yourself about your weaknesses. Mine is women. I have an almost insatiable lust for them. Once I accepted this about myself, it made it easier for me to control my emotions and not fall and melt for whatever little cute thing who batted her big, brown eyes at me. I still fuck up on occasion, though.

25. It’s OK to not be accepted. Find the people who accept you. Thanks to my crude sense of humor and my machismo, I find it hard to connect to most people in general. Yet I found that by being myself, I was able to attract the kinds of people—both civilian and military types—who dig how I am and what I have to say.

26. There are two types of people in this world: those who do what they say they’re going to do and those who don’t.

27. If you have a dream, start small in whatever way you can. When I started as a writer, I knew no one in online media. It all seemed like this big exclusive club of people. They were obviously smarter than me. How the fuck was a nobody like me going to break in? I didn’t really know how to go about it, but I knew I had to produce quality work. I’m still not a big name, but I accomplished more in a couple of years than most. Now I have a plethora of contacts and learned that not everyone is as smart as I thought they were. Also, a lot of the writers I looked up to and thousands of people know my work.

28. Life does get better for men who spent time developing their minds and their bodies. While I haven’t found the love of my life yet, I have gone on dates and at times have hooked up with more women than I can remember—beautiful, smart, and ambitious women who three or four years ago wouldn’t even give me the time of day. The fact that’ve I read a ton of books, traveled, am self-sufficient, and have worked out consistently most of my life has put me above a lot of my peers.

29. Having an amazing mother is one the best things a man can have. While it’s “cool” to have mommy issues and not like your mom these days, I harbor none of those feelings. My mom gave me a good example of what a strong, hardworking, courageous, and caring woman is. As my uncle once told me: “You know who has the biggest balls I’ve ever met in my life? Your mom.”

~Raul Felix

Read: 28 Things I’ve Learned By 28
Read: 3 Life Lessons An Old Man Called “Wild Bill” Taught Me

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog
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She May Have Given Up On You

You lie on your bed with your face buried into the pillow.
Churning over the events that led to the demise of your latest tryst.
Another one lost, another flake, another you thought would be different.
Another girl masquerading as a woman.

You don’t feel attractive, you don’t feel worthwhile, you don’t feel missed or longed for.
You work up the energy to look out the window of your downtown apartment.
You see a scrawny, low-life holding hands with a fine ass bitch.
“Why do I even bother trying to be a good man?” You wonder.

You walk to the fridge and take a peek inside.
Empty of food with a few beers left over from a previous night of boozing.
You consider drinking them all then heading out to the bar.
You close the door without a drink in hand.

You walk to your laptop and put on some motivational music.
You change into your workout clothes.
“Fuck her,” You say out loud. “Fuck her!”
She may have given up on you, but you won’t give up on yourself.
You tie the laces of your sneakers and head out the door.

~Raul Felix

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog
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Why Do You Struggle?

There are those days when you wonder,
Why the fuck are you even going through the struggle?
You’re making no progress,
Wheels spinning,
Failure after failure,
False start after false start.
Perhaps, it’d be better to call it quits
Settle for mediocrity.

Mediocrity isn’t that bad,
You can have a nice quiet life,
Full of normal experiences and things,
The typical shit.
Be another man who didn’t really matter.

It’s disgusting to think of your fate in that manner isn’t it?
That’s why you struggle.
Because its better to burn attempting greatness,
Giving it your heart and soul,
Than it is never have done much at all,
And wonder, “What if?”

~Raul Felix

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog
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She Was Traveling Through My Country

1SheWasTravelingThroughMyCountry

She was traveling through my country.
Olive skin, long silky hair, deep brown eyes,
full lips, quirky smile, physique of a Disney princess.
We walked down Hollywood Boulevard,
sharing bits and pieces of ourselves,
she was interested in my experiences, my family,
my ideas, my writing, and my goals.
In me.

She was traveling through my country.
She carried herself with dignity, but without pretension.
sweet with a biting wit,
She gave me half her dinner and bought me a beer.
Every time she spoke, my heart melted.

She was traveling through my country.
She had a man back home whom she respected.
Though she couldn’t be mine that night,
she gave me something more valuable:
Hope.
That the type of woman I desire does exist,
That I am able to get her attention and interest,
That all the work I’ve put into myself is paying off.
She was traveling through my country.

~Raul Felix

Keep Moving, Young Man

You wake up each day,
a day identical to the last,
a disheartening cycle that turns into weeks,
weeks then turn into months.

You feel yourself lost,
nothing to look forward to but work,
nothing to look forward to but boozing,
only thing keeping you sane is hope.

You know there is a light,
but the darkness consumes you,
the light is but a speck,
that you can’t make out.

That light is there,
you trek forward,
is it in the right direction?
Maybe, maybe not.

Head hanging low,
shoulders slumped,
thoughts clouded with gloom,
one foot in front of the other.

Keep moving, young man
there is nothing here for you,
keep moving, young man
maybe there is something for you elsewhere.

Remember your previous feeling of hopelessness,
the pain you felt,
defeated, battered, humiliated,
but you made it through.

One foot in front of the other,
there is nothing here for you,
One foot in front of the other,
maybe there is something for you elsewhere.

It’s OK, young man, to have failed,
It’s OK, young man, at least you tried,
It’s OK, young man, you showed courage,
It’s OK, young man, but now it’s time to move.

Head up, chest out,
No more gloom,
One foot in front of the other,
maybe there is something for you elsewhere.

~Raul Felix

Read more of my work at Thought Catalog.

3 Proactive Steps To Becoming A Writer

As much as some of my haters despise the fact, I’m a writer who gets paid to write. I must be doing something right. While I am nowhere near my end goals, I am proud of how much progress I have made so far. I look back and think about how I got started, and it’s pretty simple: About three years ago, I decided that I would be a writer. I didn’t seek anyone’s approval or permission. I just made it a goal and decided it was what I was going to do, no matter what the task required of me. So I started reading various books and articles looking for some tips to get started. With those nuggets of information I took the first steps to making my dream come true. Here are some things you can do to get yourself on the same track.

1. Write 1,000 words a day in a private journal.

The most important step is to actually write. That sounds good in theory, but anyone who has tried to sit down in front of a daunting blank computer screen knows that it’s tougher than it sounds. There is all this pressure to think of something useful and insightful to say. Or something funny, witty, and intriguing. Or something informative and factual. It’s a tough way to start when you don’t know jack shit about the creative process.

Instead, start a journal. This can be handwritten, on a typewriter, or it can be a text file on your computer. That shit is superficial and doesn’t matter. What matters is that you actually write. Your goal is not necessarily to write anything interesting, but rather to pour shit out. Write about your day, write about what is pissing you off, write about some chick you want to fuck, write in the first person, second person, and third person. Talk to yourself and encourage yourself to keep on writing. Hop from subject to subject. Your goal here is quantity, not quality.

This will create muscle memory for your hands and will get it used to writing prose. Your hands will learn where every key on the keyboard is and if you’re a slow writer, it will hone your fingers so they can keep up with your thoughts. In turn it will make you become a quicker and more effective writer. This process of mind-dumping anything that comes to your wee little head will encourage you to say whatever you have to say instead of worrying about what someone will think about what you are saying.

About 99% of what you write in your journal will be complete garbage. But as you’re vomiting out sentence after sentence, occasionally one will flow out that is genius. Or you will think of good subject matter to explore and develop. Remember, no one is going to read your journal but you, so you can talk about anything you want. If you share a computer with a significant other, tell them you don’t want them to read your journal. You will automatically censor your random thought process if you think someone else will be reading it. If your significant other doesn’t respect the fact that you want to keep that part of yourself private, ask yourself why you wish to remain with such a person.

If 1,000 words seems too daunting to start off with, write 500, 250, or 100; it doesn’t fucking matter. All that matters is that you get the process started and steadily increase your output. Aspire to write every day, but if you can’t do that, do it every other day or every third day—whatever you need to get some sort of pattern started. Once you develop consistency in frequency and output for about a year, you will have developed your skill set significantly and will be ready to actually get what you have to say out there.

2. Start a blog.

When I had been writing in my journal for a little under a year, I decided to read the first blog post of one my favorite writers. He fucking sucked. “I’m a way better writer right now than that motherfucker was when he started his blog,” I thought to myself. That’s when I knew I was ready to start my blog.

You have to define your blog’s goal. Is it where you want to launch your career, or is it a blog where you’re just going to write about bullshit that no one outside of your immediate circle of friends will care about? This is where you start thinking about quality over quantity. What value do you bring to the reader? Why should they care about what you have to say? How can you say it in a way that’s insightful, funny, or witty? What makes your perspective unique? What can you say that no one else can?

One big piece of advice I’ve consistently read is that your blog has to have a theme: travel, make-up, gaming, cars, the military, picking up chicks, fitness, etc. This implies that the only way you can succeed is by being an expert in something. Unless you’re trying to build a business around the concept, that’s bullshit advice. By giving your blog a theme, you pigeonhole yourself into writing about a limited range of subjects. You need to explore different subjects and styles to truly develop your voice.

Your goal your first year as a public writer should not really be to thrive, but rather to survive. Maybe you post two articles a month like I did or you’ll post 20+ like my first writer friend Katie Hoffman was able to do. Ever since I started writing my blog a little over two years ago, I have seen many would-be writers come and go. They’ll get all excited, hitting the ground running and write five blog posts their first week. Then as quickly as they came, they disappeared.

I’ve seen many wannabe writers say things such as, “Well, if someone gave me the opportunity to write for their site, I’d write a lot.” Fuck you, no you wouldn’t, you fucking lazy piece of shit. Writing is merit-based, and an audience is not an entitlement. You must earn the readers’ respect and attention. You must create your own opportunities rather than just wait for someone to hand them to you. Starting a blog is how you create your own opportunity and get your work out for the world to see. Go through your first year consistently producing content without quitting.

3. Grow some rhino skin.

Writing is subjective. What one person believes is a wonderfully crafted piece, another will think is total crap. Understand that even if you write a technically sound piece, it doesn’t mean it’s going to be interesting or capture anyone’s attention. What matters most is the content.

You will be insulted. You will be told you should go kill yourself. You will be told you can’t write for shit. You will be told that you should quit. You will be told that you have no talent for this. You will be told that your articles are mundane and unoriginal. You will be mocked and laughed at. You will be trolled. Or perhaps worse of all, you will be ignored.

Fuck them. Keep your head up, be tough, and with an almost delusional attitude, keep your eyes on your goals. Remember, you didn’t need anyone’s permission when you decided you wanted to be a writer, and you sure as hell don’t need anyone’s permission to keep walking on the path. The only person that can stop you is you.

Some articles that you pour your heart and soul into will be complete flops. There will always be someone who is more successful than you. Instead of being jealous of their accomplishment, read what they write, analyze what they do, and try to figure out what you would benefit from incorporating it into your own style.

Becoming a skilled wordsmith is not something that happens overnight. It’s a long process that requires many lonely nights in front of the keyboard. Self-doubt, frustration, and writer’s block will always be looming. Yet if you’re willing to do what it takes, you will earn the right to call yourself a writer.

~Raul Felix

Check out more of my writing at Thought Catalog.