Oh my, it has been a long, long while since I have opened blogspot and made it my slave.
Today I am going to write to you about writing. I think every person with a blog indulges in this, but each person has a unique reason for needing to write, or wanting to write if the need is not too great. Then again, I have always believed that needing and wanting are not so far apart. Blame my hedonistic attitude for that statement!
I used to write this blog to keep myself sane from the desert of my mind. It then became a reason for me to analyse and think about different aspects of my past and present life. It became a place to iron out some issues, discuss some thoughts, and open my own eyes despite the sandstorm.
Now, my life has been taken over by another kind of writing - the academic kind. Being a Master's student in a program about relations between people of different cultures...all I do is write! And the reason I am doing this reading and writing is to learn more about myself and how people interact. It is all fascinating. My ultimate goal, after this, is...guess what? To write more.
I do not use the pen and paper, I use the keyboard. I want to use my keyboard forever, use it up until it is so broken the keys don't even register anymore. After this laptop, I want to use another one. The keyboards will be used up like pens run out of ink. I have no paper, but that's just better for the environment.
I am writing in so many ways now, so many other ways that I have neglected to write in this blog, the blog that once kept me grounded. This is what is sad about my writing life. I need to put my life back into writing, and not just write for the sake of others in an academic setting. I cannot write only what others ask me to write, although I love the writing experience every time.
This blog is for letting you see me. I want you to see me and know me, even if you know very little about me. You will learn about me as you read, because the best way for me to open up to you is write. That's really why I write: because when I speak, or sing, I cannot express myself. My face hides too much, my body's movements are mostly calculated. When I write, the social situation is different. I can be myself. I can be anything I choose to show you, but I promise you that I want to show you everything. In due time, of course...
I am writing more specifically about writing today because I am taking part in NaNoWrimo - I am trying to branch out and write fiction. On my first day, I wrote ~2000 words. My story is about an afterlife where memories are stripped of the dead and they are stuck in a purgatory for a much higher purpose, one that will decide their ultimate fate. I don't wish to say too much just yet, mostly because I have not planned it closely and also because I have only written for one day.
Am I overdoing it with the writing thing? Am I writing too much, asking too much of myself? Let me just say that in my life, there is one certainty - okay, there are many certainties, but there is one major one that I feel very good about, although I know it is not possible. The certainty lies within a dream. A dream I know will never happen, a dream of a life that will never occur. The dream is this:
If I were to fill the rest of my life with eating, sheesha, and writing, that would be the best life.
