The thoughts inside my head

Roses are scary, Violets are too, I think I should stop sniffing glue.

It’s Tuesday morning, it seems to be colder now than it was a month ago and politics is happening to the world but we aren’t here to talk about it. Good.

I’ve observed something of a trend in the weeks and months that I’ve been writing this blog and pretending that people give a shit about it. The more I write in a short space of time, the less interesting the writing feels to me. I don’t know if it comes across this way, as I’m not Schrödinger’s reader it’s tough for me to know.

I started the blog for a couple of reasons. First and foremost I’ve always liked the idea of being a writer. I’ve never really done anything that would really count as working towards that, so this was a start. Can’t like being a writer more than you like writing! 

As I’ve alluded to and explained elsewhere, I’m not always the best at knowing what’s actually going on in my own head. The second facet of my motivation has been as an aide to understanding my own thoughts. The writing I’ve enjoyed the most has been that where I’ve had a problem to articulate. Most of the pieces written from this starting point end up bearing no resemblance to what I had in my head at the beginning. Its like setting out for a walk in a garden and walking up a mountain by accident. Unexpected certainly, but not a bad thing.

To throw another metaphor at the situation, it’s like getting lost in a storm but ending up where you were meant to be rather than where you were heading. Probably not that glamorous though. Maybe more like being drunk and trying to make it to the sofa to sleep, but ending up on a bed. In the spare room. At your friends house. In a different city. Nice when things work out?

When I’ve got something that’s pissing me off, writing has helped me to deal with things in a more time efficient way. It remains to be seen whether this expedited process leads to better consequences, still too early to call on that one. 

Subsequently though, I find that I’ve enjoyed a piece of writing and so feel motivated to write more. Good feedback loop on the surface of it. Trickier in practice as I’ve found that when I start to write again, it’s real shitty. There are half a dozen posts that I’ve abandoned mid-way through because I’ve just felt like they aren’t really saying anything. I’m no Pratchett, but I want my words to have some substance or meaning to them.
There’s a particular piece of writing that I can picture in my head, it would be something resembling a summary of my philosophy towards life. Except not that good. For some reason I can’t write it. Probably four separate posts have started out in that direction but become distracted somewhere along the way. Still worthwhile, still valuable but definitively not what the intention was at the beginning.

I suppose what I’m ultimately getting at in this installment is that I’m enjoying writing, I like to think I’m getting better at it and whilst inspiration is intermittent I don’t think I’m running out of things to say. The alternative to this is of course that I had nothing to say to begin with, but I’m going to remain optimistic! 

Alex, Legendary Wordsmith (in training)

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