How to tell a good story?

I don't know how. But maybe, ..... just maybe, I'm trying to live one.

I don’t know what a good story feels like. I don’t know how to tell a good story.

Pour your heart out, they said. Write your soul out, they said. They don’t know the soul you hold no longer exists.

Juggling between your facets of life, you’re draining away the pieces of your soul you hold dear.

Stop! before you stumble upon another carcass and you resonate with them, while they laugh and smile with their peers and dead inside.

Stop! before you resonate with a table that exists, while everyone uses the matter that fills the space.

Stop! before you fade away, and let the time take you in its arms and throw you amongst the immaterial lives that exist.

Stop! before you vanish, while you lifelessly hold your dear ones and you’re no longer the same person when they first met you.

Stop what! you ask?

Stop the one thing that existed in common with the story until now. The comparison.

It is the defeat of all that defines you, the sarcophagus you put yourself in while you’re still alive, the most unimportant aspect of life.

The comparison is a very thin, nuanced subject that we all so brazenly talk about, but comparison of what? the comparison between what?

I, as many more before me, said don’t compare yourself to others. But is that really humanely possible?

I believe the good story is not told but lived by trying to constantly struggle to not compare yourself to others, not to run the rat race.

The falling in and out of this constant struggle to maintain the equilibrium of what composes you tells a good story.

Sorry, but I don’t know how to tell a good story. Because, I’m failing and succeeding once more at living a good story,