Remember In Time?
That mental Justin Timberlake movie where everyone stops aging at 25 and time becomes currency?
People literally die when their clock runs out. The rich hoard centuries while the poor scramble for minutes.
That’s essentially the plot without many spoilers.
I’m watching it again tonight and it got me thinking.
Given immortality, most people would still play it safe.
They’d write what sells. Chase trends. Polish every sentence until it’s neutered of personality. Spend decades perfecting craft while avoiding anything that might offend, challenge, or reveal too much of their actual soul.
Time isn’t what stops us from writing raw, honest shit that matters.
Fear is what stops us.
Fear of rejection. Fear of being seen as weird, damaged, or too much. Fear that our real thoughts aren’t worth reading. Fear that authenticity is nowadays a career suicide, especially if you look around and see that most things are built on pretty little lies.
If you had infinite time, would you finally write about the depression that ate three years of your life?
The relationship that broke you in ways you’re still discovering? The rage you carry?
Most writers already have enough time. We just waste it on waiting for permission to tell our stories, or obsessing over perfect prose instead of true prose or the worst…
Writing what we think people want instead of what we need to say.
The clock is ticking for all of us. Not in centuries, but in decades if we’re lucky.
So stop saving your rawest material for “someday when you’re ready.” Stop polishing the edges off everything that might cut someone.
Immortality wouldn’t make you braver. It would just give you more time to make excuses.
The most powerful writing comes from the parts of yourself you’re afraid to show.
You know what to do.
Stephen Walker.
Here’s the trailer if you’re interested. It’s a fun one albeit a little cheesy.