So, I have been going back and forth over the past few weeks,
trying to sit down and dedicate 30 min or so to writing a blog entry. Something
witty, semi-personal, and very relatable, to get my metaphoric feet wet. I mean,
there was a point in my past when every single memorable moment in my life was
recorded somewhere, whether on my blogspot, my livejournal, my deadjournal (does
anyone else remember that?), or my blogger. And even before the internet became
a significant part of my life, I had the good ol' fashion bound paper journal
to turn to. Basically, ever since I knew who Doug Funnie was (quite possibly
even before), I was always obsessed with the idea of recording my thoughts, so
that I could have a record to refer back to, of all of the high and low points
in my life. My memory can only immediately recall back to so many things, and I
want to make sure that, when I am older, I can refer back to something, some
previous experience that I had, to share either with my present day self or
someone else. And maybe, just maybe, someone will be able to get something from
it.
If you look at something like Letters to a Young Poet, or
The Diary of Anne Frank (and please don't think that I am trying to imply that
ANYTHING that I write will ever come CLOSE to being as influential or essential
as what they wrote, but then again, you never know....), I can almost guarantee
that these people never had any idea how many people would be impacted by their
words and thoughts. In fact, they might have never even thought that anyone
besides them was ever going to see it at all. And that's just it: no one ever
knows what a profound impact something that they say or think may possibly have
on another person, or even a group of people. That's the thing about words, you
never know when your words will prove to be the catalyst to something much
greater than you could even imagine possible.
That is why I want to get back into writing. Too often I
think that the unknown reach of my words is what keeps me from doing it more. From
one side, I think that at times I don’t write something because I feel that it
will not resonate with anyone else, or it may even seem trivial and
insignificant to me some day in the future, so what's the point in writing it
down? From the other side, I am afraid of the potentially limitless power of my
words. I see words like sounds in a cavernous mine, riding the waves of echoes
and creeping into dark, unexplored corners, affecting things that I did not
even think about, and causing a chain reaction that I could have never
predicted. And even more so, I worry about whether my words are even getting
the message that I meant to convey across well.
In the end, like many of my hang-ups, it all comes down to
fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of success. Well, fuck it.
Consider this the first step forward. Because even a potential misstep is still
a step, and it sure as hell beats standing still.
2 comments:
Sorry to see your blog has ended. Strangely, I just found it. :(
It hasn't ended actually :-) I'm just playing a game of mental double-dutch, trying to find my rhythm again so that I can jump back in. Hopefully it's coming soon though.
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