I am writing this because I can't stand to see the emptiness here. The neglect.
I wonder why I only write inside my head now. I think, but I don't give myself time to write them down, the impatient thoughts, and I don't see any difference anymore. Thinking it is writing it.
I do this with people as well. I have imaginary conversations as and when I need to talk. I'm not going crazy. I just know them well enough to know exactly what they are going to say. Or maybe, I am afraid they have changed and will have a different point of view?
My biggest beef with facebook, is that my phone bills are so very low.
What if I embark on this experiment - I call every one of them, and see how long it is until we reach the awkward pause. I let it hang now, I let it be visible, I don't try to hush away its existence with a nonchalant 'and what else?'. The awkward pause is my admonishment.
3 comments:
Provocative.
But I long gave up the quest for writing only 'fine' things. My blog is more like a rough notepad, where most of my uncooked ideas find an empty space to fill.
S, It's not always the quest for a 'fine' piece of writing. The whole 'public consumption' side of blogging tends to restrain me, every time I sit and write. This happens very subconsciously and I never realise it in time.
But that's the idea behind a blog - sharing thoughts with a world where your identity is only - author. Nothing more, nothing less.
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