The Writing Page of Ryan Millward
“So often it’s in an individual’s deepest, darkest moments where he or she summons the strength to shine the brightest. So if you someone with that fire blazing in their eye, know that it didn’t come easily.
More often than not it burns bright because it has felt the flames of hell.”
~ Straight from the Source ~
“Why can’t you just write something normal, you know? Why can’t you just write a book about your actual travels? Why all the weird existentialism?”
I know, I know. My writing is not radio-friendly. It’s probably not going to make me many friends. It’s also not going to be something my parents will read through with a smile on. But it is the raw truth of me that fills my flesh and bones, and in this world that is something that my soul yearns out for. I do not believe that what this world needs right now is another middle of the road story. I do not believe what we need are some more people playing it safe. No, no: I do not want to add to that. In this life what we need are a few people to stand up and show who they really are to the world. What we need is some raw authenticity and gritty truth – a look at the dirty underbelly beneath the masks and makeup of the human race. What we need are the secrets of the silent souls – if only to let others out there know that they aren’t alone with how they feel in this life.
Yes that is what we need, and so here it is from myself: the mess and madness from my mind. The scraps of insanity in my skull. The aches and pains in my heart. The things that I can never speak when I stare into the eyes of you humans, but only express once I am alone in a room at a keyboard, separated from society, the tether cut so the spirit bird can finally rise up and express itself. And yes, I know it isn’t all pretty and polished, but better to be a genuine mess from the source of the soul, than to be perfectly packaged in a fake plastic reality.”
“And you didn’t see the world like the rest did, that much was clear. You didn’t belong in those crowds or sat on sofas in those suburbs of sanity. You didn’t see no victory in comfort and security, nor find salvation in the acceptance of others. You knew somewhere inside of you that you were a foreign thing; a wayward wanderer of the cosmos incompatible with the world that was presented to you. The situation seemed hopeless, but with a heart full of fire and a mind full of madness you began your solitary journey through the wilderness, following that ineffable pull of the heart, rising up against the storms, trudging through the swamps – moving fearlessly towards some sort of place you could call home. And as your journey went on, you gradually began to realise that the destination never mattered, for it was out there in that untamed wilderness where your stray-dog soul truly belonged. Out on those rugged plains was the place your spirit could run free – a place you could be yourself in your gritty messiness and madness. Out there you travelled so far until you eventually ventured inward and found the place you finally belonged.
You finally found the home that was the kingdom of yourself.”
“I guess it was true that I wasn’t the complete package any more – that I was genuinely crazy, and not really in the good way. The more I stared into those morning mirrors of realisation, the more I saw the sanity slowly fading from my eyes. The effects of the last years of bohemian adventure had left me permanently scratched and scarred. I had madness stained into my brain and chaos seared into my soul. I was increasingly hard to relate to. Simple tasks of convention and expectation made me spirit shudder. At any point I assumed I could just stop to reduce the damage, but I started to realise that the return to the farm of sanity was becoming an impossible task. I had wandered too far and lost sight of it. I walked the streets like an alien on interstellar safari. I had shifted my life to live in a world that wasn’t accessible to anyone else. I couldn’t quite explain it to myself or others, but for some reason I had to keep moving forward into the mess and madness. I was enticed, entranced – bewitched by something bigger than myself. There was something out there that called me forward. And though sometimes it was painful, I felt alive – more alive than any life of comfort and ease could ever offer.
So please, know that I live in my own world now. I roam the wild woods in my mind and feast off the carcass of my own madness. My feet move fearlessly along the mountain paths in my heart. My soul sets sail outward on storm-pounded oceans. I am driven to this; it is the only thing I know. I am heading further and further into the wilderness of life, following the ineffable pull of the heart, trudging through the swamps, rising up against the storms, staring out into the skies with a mind of blazing fire. Yes, it’s true: I am lost out in a great wilderness. But please, don’t send out a search party for me.”
~ Refuse ~
“When normality requires you to hide your true face, when the crowd want you to silence your voice to meet their approval, when you’re asked to abandon what sets your soul on fire for the sake of sensibility and sanity – refuse. Whatever life is, it certainly isn’t no little rehearsal for you to drift passively through as your dreams and desires lie gathering dust and cobwebs in some dark, forgotten corner. Your life is precious and your life is now, so muster up the courage to live the one you were born for. Muster up the courage to live the life that leaves your bones shaking with adventure and your heart aching with passion.”
~ A State Of Being ~
“Yes it’s true. I am a little crazy, a little deranged, a little bit off the rails. But spare me your doctors, your drugs – your diagnosis. I don’t need to be fixed or repaired; I don’t need to find a way to ‘fit in’ to some system of routine and predictability. I live in a world of chaos and madness and mystery, but I like it this way. It is only in the untamed spaces where I feel a sense of belonging. It is only in the unknown where I salvage what my soul needs. It is only when I venture beyond those fences of normality and out into the woods of madness that I feel totally at home.”
“There I stood on that city sidewalk once again: haunted and disturbed, my mind stained with Monday morning madness as the weight of this concrete world pressed down upon me. All around me the human race persevered on like normal. The traffic jams slowly stuttered by; the shoppers trudged on with their plastic bags; the cranes of doom loomed over me constructing our grey future. The insanity was relentless. We were a species stumbling recklessly toward the future. The rainforests fell as the skyscrapers rose; the rich bought $5000 suits as the homeless begged for money; the sociopaths flourished while the most intelligent sat in therapist offices paying for the right not to go insane. When you opened your eyes and really looked at it you could see something wasn’t quite right; something had gone wrong. In our undying quest for the good life we had become confused, deranged – dangerous. We had lost ourselves to illusions of success and future and wealth. But what good were those things when the air was poisoned? When the streets were littered with the homeless? When the buildings burnt down violently because the development agency skipped on fireproof materials to save money? The chaos of it all tormented me. It left me isolated on streets of thousands. Often I worried about ending up in the madhouse – but then I looked around and realised I was already in it.”
~ A Voice From The Wild ~ 