The Visceral Void

It's been said that there is only one fear: death. And all other fears can be traced back to it. But nothing has ever struck so much terror in my heart as the experience and idea of boredom. I'd rather be dead than bored. Now, I am not the sort of person who needs to be constantly entertained, especially by outside sources. Stimulation and enrichment come in many different forms, and I can (and often do, a bit too much) take solace and engagement within my own mind. This fear moves far beyond the immediate and physical. It's a fear of losing the ability to learn, create and adapt. The true hell is not one of eternal pain and suffering, it's one where knowledge and skill can neither be gained nor applied. And by this definition, I can honestly say that I've never been truly bored in my life. Not even once. And yet, this fear is rooted so deeply that its effect on my novel is inevitable. Seeing as I now find myself in the exceedingly wonderful position of having such a great time with this, I wonder vaguely, deep in the back of my mind, if I have grown somehow dependent on it. Perhaps it exists only for the purpose of fighting my deepest fear. But then, would that be a bad thing? Why am I (and apparently many others) so concerned about combating my fear with my writing? Of course, it's foolish to rely on any one thing for support, but this is a healthy outlet just as much as it's a passionate goal of mine. The process is so incredibly multifaceted that it seems natural for it to offer just as many benefits as challenges. There is simply no way I have conceived this entire thing just to stave off my own mental Cthulhu. I have addressed similar concerns in the course of this blog. They are certainly all related to one another. I am digging deeper, trying to get to the heart of why I'm still somewhat hesitant to embrace some aspects of this holistically positive experience. I feel that this unintentional resistance is holding me back somewhat, and it's worthwhile to remove any and all barricades blocking my way. I'm confident that I can get to the bottom of it. Or the top, depending on which way you look at it. This time around, the awareness alone is enough, and I have all the resources I need to face this particular Eldritch being head on. The visceral horrors we avoid at all cost may hold insights into our most ultimate freedoms. To fear is human, but love is an anchor: the confronted void cannot suck up that which is well grounded.