“When the Muse Is a Menace — Creating Even on the Days You Don’t Feel Like It”

A Chaos Journal Entry By One Bad Maa 

Some days the muse shows up like a rabid angel, claws out, ideas flying, energy popping off like electricity under the skin.

And some days?

The muse is a menace. Avoidant. Missing. A ghost with a middle finger.

And that’s exactly why I don’t rely on her.

People love to talk about inspiration. They don’t talk about the mornings where you sit there staring at your screen like it owes you money. They don’t talk about those nights where your brain is so fried you’re running on caffeine fumes and attitude. They don’t talk about the guilt that creeps in when you’re “supposed” to be creative but feel like your tank is bone-dry.

So this is the truth:

**I don’t create because I feel like it.

I create because this shit is  who the fuck I am.

There are days where the work comes easy, panels flow, colors hit right, and my characters practically drag themselves onto the page.

Then there are days where the only thing that shows up is my discipline , ugly, gritty, cracked-knuckle discipline.

**The Muse isn’t my master. She’s my tool.

And when she disappears, I work anyway.

Because that’s what real creators don’t admit out loud:

Most of our best work came from the days we didn’t feel magical. We felt stubborn. Pissed off. Or just done with everything.

Creating in phases

I’ve learned that my creativity has “seasons”,  not aesthetic seasons, but energetic ones:

• High-Energy: The “I’m unstoppable” days

When I could draw a 50-page comic if someone dared me.

These days are rare and holy.

• Low-Energy: The “just show up” days

I might only ink one panel or fix one line.

But it counts, because I kept the thread alive.

• Maintenance Mode: The “don’t think, just move” days

This is where CapCut reels get edited, simple sketches get cleaned, backgrounds get organized, blogs get typed, and small wins pile up.

This is where most of the real growth happens.

My characters carry parts of me I can’t always put into words

Rebel is discipline.

Lawless is the wild streak I suppress.

Rage is the spark in my ribs when life tries me.

Vex is the chaos I’ve survived.

Meany is the feral protector.

One Bad Maa is the woman I’m becoming, not the woman I was.

On days I can’t hear my own voice, they speak for me.

They move when I can’t.

They express the moods, the quiet storms, the internal monologues I don’t always say out loud.

And that’s why I keep showing up.

Not for some perfect idea.

Not for the muse.

Not for motivation.

But because consistency turns nobodies into legends.

Because creating while exhausted, annoyed, or uninspired is how you earn the right to create when you’re on fire.

Because this world, my world, The Realm, doesn’t get built in bursts of inspiration.

It gets built in the cracks.

In the grind.

In the days where nobody sees what you’re doing but you.

And honestly?

**If the muse wants to act like a menace, she can.

I’ll just keep creating without her.

That’s what makes me dangerous.

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