The desire to write; to create, was stolen from me, forcing me to conform to the patterns that went before me: the brainwashing into an intellectual: the hidden consequence of academia.
It works until you have an opposing ideology fighting for your mind. And thence comes the crossroads: either hate one and love the other or hold on to one and despise the other.
I produced well-structured papers and good marks, all at the expense of creative flair. Now I cannot read for fun or continue my own writing, for even going back to the academy in my mind for one moment brings a weight upon my mind so fierce; so heavy.
Now it's been almost a year since I've been out, and I'm regaining the ways I use to think and process. I'm starting to become me, again. I escaped from the toils of grad school, smuggling my creativity out with it (at least what was left of it). Soon I will be able to dream again and repurpose my calling in a world so desperate for just one more creative spark.
It's sort of like my phone that I accidentally dunked in the deep abyss of the washing machine last month. It suffered a severe shock to its hard-drive; malfunctioning and shutting down completely. After some days it was able to start after some life was jump started back into it, but it has several problems: the head phone jack, front camera, and home button are all completely dead. Having to make due as is, I continued to use the functions I had available until suddenly, after about a month, the home button regained its functionality!
And so it is with me. I've been away from my home for too long, and it wasn't good for my mind; my soul. But now I'm starting to come to; come back to that place I once felt safe and secure and free to dream and express and create. My home button works again, and I plan on wearing it out, hoping the rest will recover along with it. ... It's good to be back.