BEYOND THE VOID (A Silent Horizon)

KIESHATHACREATOR
Apr 24
4 min read

The Weight of Belief

Building a business without a partner or a safety net of financial stability is like walking a tightrope in the dark. The ground you once trusted to be solid shifts beneath you, and every gust of doubt feels like it could send you plummeting. And yet—for almost nine years now—I have kept my balance. I have kept moving forward. I have refused to let that gust knock me down.

I love this journey, but I will not pretend it’s anything but lonely. There is a unique kind of courage that grows when no one around you believes in what you’re building. It’s the courage born out of desperation, the fierce defiance of a spirit that says, “I will prove them wrong.” When you’ve given out free services over and over, hoping that goodwill will blossom into paying customers, you learn a hard lesson: goodwill is easy; commitment is rare. Every “thank you” that never turned into a sale builds a quiet wall between you and your faith in the world. And still, I wake up every morning ready to knock down that wall again.

The Echo of Eight Years

Eight years without a single customer—on paper, that looks like failure. Friends shake their heads. Family raises eyebrows. Some say, “Why keep at it?” Others whisper, “Maybe it’s time to give up.” And in the quiet hours, I whisper back, “Because I believe.” I believe in the stories I’ve written, the lessons I’ve learned, and the power of my own tenacity.

I’ve walked countless trails: writing ghost articles, building EPKs for filmmakers, crafting marketing systems in Notion and ClickUp; I’ve designed Canva templates and press kits, launched pop-up events for apparel lines, and brainstormed influencer outreach strategies. I’ve celebrated accolades—official film festival selections, best screenplay awards, recognition as one of Eber & Wein’s Best Poets. Each trophy reminds me that the work is good. But good work doesn’t always equate to a paycheck. So I keep pitching, keep creating, keep refining.

In those moments when I stare at an empty inbox, I feel the weight of every rejection and every silent scroll past my links. I know the bitterness of giving someone something valuable—and watching them walk away with it, leaving the promise of “I’ll pay you later” ringing hollow in the ether. Yet every free service has taught me something: how to listen, how to adapt, how to refine my pitch until it’s a perfect reflection of who I am and what I offer.

The Fire That Refuses to Die

Some say passion fades when it isn’t fed by money. But my passion thrives in adversity. The hunger for success is what keeps me writing late into the night, tweaking that marketing plan until it glows with possibility, and scrolling through potential influencers to partner with—dreaming of the day when 5,000 likes becomes 50,000, when a micro-influencer becomes a mid-tier advocate who not only uses my apparel but lives my message.

I look forward to the moment when financial gain arrives—not because it’s a number in a bank account, but because it will validate the countless hours, the sweat, and the tears. It will prove that the lonely nights spent brainstorming self-reflection journal designs and the early mornings spent polishing email templates weren’t in vain.

I imagine the day when I have a partner in this journey—someone who believes in the vision as fiercely as I do, someone who can share the load, brainstorm alongside me, and celebrate wins together. That partnership, for me, represents not just financial stability but emotional kinship. Because building an empire alone can feel like shouting into the void.

The Promise of Tomorrow

Despite the noise of doubt—external and internal—I hold onto hope like a lifeline. I believe in this journey because it has already given me so much: resilience, creativity, recognition, and above all, a story worth telling. One day, I won’t just be the person asking for trust through free services. I’ll be the mentor teaching others how to weather the storm when their own banks of doubt threaten to overflow.

I dream of the moment when I stand on a stage—perhaps a writers’ conference, perhaps a TED Talk—telling my story and pointing to my experiences as proof: that persistence outlives failure, that belief outshines disbelief, and that the truest form of success is never measured in dollars alone but in lives touched and inspired.

I want to become a household name—a mentor whose name on a journal or a screenplay carries weight, whose brand colors (gold, black, white) evoke both luxury and authenticity. I want young writers, budding entrepreneurs, and fellow dreamers to look at my journey and see themselves. To know that even when the path is dark, the tiniest ember of belief can grow into an inferno of achievement.

Why I Will Not Give Up

Every time I consider giving up, I remember why I started. It wasn’t for the accolades—though I cherish them. It wasn’t for the applause—though I’m grateful for every cheer. It was for the story, the craft, the dream of building something that outlasts me. It was for the journal entries yet unwritten, the pop-up events yet unplanned, the EPKs yet to convince the next great filmmaker. It was for the people who haven’t found my work yet but will, someday.

So I press on. I craft content calendars branded with gold lotus flowers. I refine my influencer outreach list. I sketch new cover designs for that 2025 Daily Self-Reflection Journal. I set up landing pages for writing communities. I apply for summer internships at groundbreaking studios. I dream of economic gains, but I live for creative fulfillment.

Failure may settle in like a heavy fog, but it cannot extinguish this flame. In the silence of an empty inbox, my heart still beats to the rhythm of possibility. The journey is long. The nights are lonely. The bank account may be empty. But my spirit is full—and my vision remains clear.

I haven’t given up. I will not give up. Because one day, the world will see what I’ve known all along: that belief, persistence, and authentic storytelling can move mountains—and build empires out of dreams.