Okay.
I had to write something. You know, because, mostly, I love writing. Sometimes people want me to write, sometimes it is to rest my urge for writing, and most of the time, I write probably because there’s too much stuff in my head. That is, however, a highly controversial, and ambiguous thing to say. If I were to write in order to create a prose out of whatever it is in my head, I should be writing all day long and doing nothing else. Realistically, I don’t even write 1percent of what I want to write. I get all hung up on what and how to write. Do I write monologues? Do I write about the people and relationships, and the complications that I observed on a particular day? Do I write about the music I am into these days? Do I try to write a song? Do I try to just scribble anything that bubbles up in my head?
I don’t know. I never know. I will probably never know. One of those days I just got traumatized a little, got hurt a little, became forced to ponder, and inevitably happened to “create” something. Maybe that is good, but maybe I want myself to create something out of happy times as well, or something out of banality too. I don’t want to rely on these “sudden jerks” that technically “compel” me to write. But maybe I do. I don’t know. How can I know? I think I would and I should be writing for gratification, not for consolation, but then the whole point is “writing” so I should be indifferent to the causes and simply, write.
And I prefer writing over typing. I love the motion a pen makes over a piece of paper. I love organizing my writing and try to make it look as close to perfection as possible. You know, the calligraphy thing. But that obviously has its perks and pitfalls. Typing has been made a ubiquitous option, thanks to technology and it is unbelievably easy to work on your writing with your gadgets. It is quite amazing to be able to store your thoughts as soon as they arrive, and work them on later. Everybody should be thankful to technology for that, but that’s not to say it has lessened the value of the satisfaction and joy that writing with a pen over a piece of paper can provide. For me, personally, that joy is simply irreplaceable whatsoever. I love the smell of the ink, the impression whatever I write makes on the other side of the paper, the noise while flipping the pages and how aerated the pages feel. I absolutely love all those tiny little things that only a pen and a small heap of pages can provide. That’s far more thrilling and enticing a prospect.
I had to write something. You know, because, mostly, I love writing. Sometimes people want me to write, sometimes it is to rest my urge for writing, and most of the time, I write probably because there’s too much stuff in my head. That is, however, a highly controversial, and ambiguous thing to say. If I were to write in order to create a prose out of whatever it is in my head, I should be writing all day long and doing nothing else. Realistically, I don’t even write 1percent of what I want to write. I get all hung up on what and how to write. Do I write monologues? Do I write about the people and relationships, and the complications that I observed on a particular day? Do I write about the music I am into these days? Do I try to write a song? Do I try to just scribble anything that bubbles up in my head?
I don’t know. I never know. I will probably never know. One of those days I just got traumatized a little, got hurt a little, became forced to ponder, and inevitably happened to “create” something. Maybe that is good, but maybe I want myself to create something out of happy times as well, or something out of banality too. I don’t want to rely on these “sudden jerks” that technically “compel” me to write. But maybe I do. I don’t know. How can I know? I think I would and I should be writing for gratification, not for consolation, but then the whole point is “writing” so I should be indifferent to the causes and simply, write.
And I prefer writing over typing. I love the motion a pen makes over a piece of paper. I love organizing my writing and try to make it look as close to perfection as possible. You know, the calligraphy thing. But that obviously has its perks and pitfalls. Typing has been made a ubiquitous option, thanks to technology and it is unbelievably easy to work on your writing with your gadgets. It is quite amazing to be able to store your thoughts as soon as they arrive, and work them on later. Everybody should be thankful to technology for that, but that’s not to say it has lessened the value of the satisfaction and joy that writing with a pen over a piece of paper can provide. For me, personally, that joy is simply irreplaceable whatsoever. I love the smell of the ink, the impression whatever I write makes on the other side of the paper, the noise while flipping the pages and how aerated the pages feel. I absolutely love all those tiny little things that only a pen and a small heap of pages can provide. That’s far more thrilling and enticing a prospect.
From the onset of the
year, I have been thinking about making the most of my writing abilities this
time and write every day, regardless of the topics(or the lack of them),
regardless of my energy, and regardless of the difficulties I face while organizing
my thoughts. I tend to get alarmingly conscious (and cautious) more with my
presentation, the grammar, and the semantics. I tend to focus on the consolidation
of my thoughts more than merely disposing them incessantly. That makes things
difficult for me. Most of the times, millions of thoughts remain concealed, and
ultimately vanish. I would love to accumulate them all, because I like to think,
they are powerful, and could be highly relevant and meaningful, if I did that. The
other day I was writing a story-ish poem (there’s definitely a proper term for
that, I know) but could not complete it simply because, you know I got caught
up in that “fluidity in expression vs. solidity in the subject” dilemma. I
still can’t figure out which out of these two styles of writing is more tedious.
Some would argue maintaining a cohesion in the story is a tougher ask, and some
would point to preserving the crudeness of emotions and/or maintaining the flow
as the more difficult job. From my experience, I would say both of them are
equally demanding. It’s more about making the most of both approaches rather
than compromising with either that enhances a writing.
This prose has been a lot of technicality perhaps, I should be posting some
meaningful stuffs shortly. I desperately want to make this year a lot more
busier in terms of expressing myself more, writing more( hopefully cooler
stuffs as well), and preferably significant stuffs too.
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