Wednesday, October 14, 2015
When You Have Nothing to Say, Write.
I've started keeping a journal of sorts again. It's a pad of paper that I bought at CityCo three nights ago when I realised I had nothing to write on. It sucked, but I trudged out of my dorm and all the way across the street in the relative cold to pay for something to push a pen across in the name of writing down my thoughts. I think the guy working there thought I was insane... who buys a pad of paper and a bag of Cola gummy sweets at two in the morning? Apparently I do, when there are too many things to say and typing doesn't suffice.
So after a few months of not expressing myself through writing, I wrote. I wrote in pretty cursive and that script I use when I'm racing to take notes in class. I tried printing again and laughed at how juvenile my handwriting has become. I wrote boldly and meekly, legibly and so illegibly I can't even begin to tell you what I was trying to say. I wrote my thoughts uncensored and read back the sort of person I am becoming.
I guess it's not fair to say that I haven't expressed myself in writing for months-- I've been blogging. The thing about blogging though is that us bloggers censor what we have to say. We don't like admitting it, but I will be blunt: we sugar-coat our lives. And typing the same as really sitting down with a pen and confronting your fears, insecurities, hopes and dreams on a medium you can touch.
Flipping back through what I've written, I realise that most of it so far are growing pains. I am a product of my circumstances and therefore worry about things appropriate to my current situation. There's nothing wrong with that, but there's also nothing unique about it either. And that's perfectly okay.