The Inner Voice

He sat down to write after a long day. Yet the mantle of weariness hung heavy upon him. The bed lay within his reach. He only had to tread a few steps and accept defeat. He rose and sluggishly approached complacency.  

The writer revelled in the bracing comfort of sleep. 

Suddenly an inner voice chimed in through the fog of slumber.

‘You should write.’ 

He barely mustered his response. He drawled back:

‘But I don’t have it in me. I’m all tapped out.’

The inner voice repeated its call once again.

‘You should write.’ 

The writer defied its command, plucking out another excuse to hurl at it.

‘But it won’t be a good piece anyway. I’m too tired to think. I’m too tired to move. Why bother?’

The inner voice flicked his excuse away.

‘You should write.’ 

Taking its swift dismissal unkindly, the writer bellowed back:

‘No, I’m exhausted. Leave me alone!’

He thought that was the end of it when the inner voice didn’t reply again…

But then it did echo again, louder this time:

‘You should write.’ 

The nagging command disrupted any comfort of sleep. The guilt now burdened his mind. If he didn’t write, he would fail at what he started. Could he really give up on the progress now? Especially since he had come so far with his streak?

Knowing that the thought unsettled him, he rallied any semblance of strength and willpower to rise up from the bed. He hobbled back to the study desk, a walking shambles of a person. Despite being drained of vigour, he sat down (nearly tempted to doze off again in the chair) and opened his laptop.

As he stared at the blank document, a spark of inspiration ignited in his mind. His fingers kindled the words onto the page, the clickety clack of the keyboard rang through the bedroom. 

Within an hour he had a piece written.

‘I did it’... his shock curdled into wonder. How was this possible, despite his exhaustion?

‘I knew you could!’, it was the inner voice praising his efforts.

He rejoiced in the moment. 

It was then the writer realised that no matter how difficult every day would be, he could still do it. It was possible. He just had to make time for it. 

When all he wants to do is yield to the demands of daily life, he must always remind himself one crucial thing: his inner voice was his companion on this endeavour. His own little cheerleader will be spurring him on, believing him in every step of the journey.


A reflection on the struggle of writing everyday.

Day 12 - This piece was posted as part of the 31 Days of Content Challenge that I undertook in March 2022.