I am on school holidays, which is great.. my only problem is that I always spend waaaaaaaay too much time doing nothing (i.e. watching TV) and I always feel like I never do anything in the holidays. This is a big problem these hols especially on account of the speech I have to do next week. I’m going to write about writing (original, hey?) which I thought would be easy. Haha, I even make myself laugh. No. This is completely impossible. My thoughts are too scattery to make sense and I’m having trouble working out how to make my audience relate to my word-nerd self.
That’s why I’m going ahead and doing a stream-of-consciousness post in the hopes that having my thoughts written down helps. Of course, if anyone wants to offer suggestions, they’re welcome. Here goes.
Why Do I Write?
Why do people do anything? We do things because we have to because if we don’t there will be consequences, or we do things because we want to.
I write for the latter, as is probably obvious. I write because words make me something more than myself. I’m not trying to say that I feel weak and that words empower me (so cliche ugh) but I feel like when I have a pen in my hands or a keyboard beneath my fingers I am more than what people see when they look at me. Like everyone who meets me in the real world is seeing me through glasses tinted by “she’s smart” or “she’s weird” or “she’s that girl who did that thing that time.” When I posted my first good post I was amazed at the response. People cared. Of course I have amazing friends and family in my life who care, but they know me. These people cared not because of anything I say or do or am but because I wrote something that connected with them and if I can connect with people without them even seeing my face, what a thing to have achieved! To be someone cool and interesting because I am cool and interesting, not because my facade or the predetermined opinions of others are. This is real. This is unbiased gratitude to me for being good at something. These people who say I’ve invoked a memory or brightened their day, they don’t know me. All I’ve given them to go on is a few words on a page, but don’t think that I am a fraud in this format. I think I share more with the written word than I ever could in a conversation. I can write a thousand ways to say “I love you” but it’s impossible to say out loud sometimes. When I write things down I put myself on the paper in a way I lack the confidence to do for real. The people who read my writing are seeing more than me. I don’t know how I can be more than myself, but somehow I understand that there are people I have known for years that will never know me, because I haven’t chosen to show myself to them. I’m not saying that you can read my writing and know me inside and out but it’s the only way I can really say anything. I’m not perfect. I am socially awkward and I don’t like public speaking. I say stupid things a lot and I am very annoying, but the people who read my writing don’t know that. They know the things that matter more, and in that way, writing is something I could never give up for fear of disappearing without it.