Thinking out loud – about writing

Writing

 

It’s one of those nights when I can’t sleep. Moving around in my bed is always an option, but I don’t like to listen to my heart pounding and after a while I’m here. Well actually it’s the first time I turned to my blog looking for redemption from my sleepless nights, and it’s also first time after a while that I’m writing again. To be totally honest it’s the first time I’m just writing my thoughts down without thinking what anyone who would come across this here would think. Makes sense, maybe…

What does make sense it that I’m really enjoying the process. Writing the first thing that pops into ones mind isn’t how blogs work meanwhile in our era of social media, at least that’s what I was told and made believe. But if I’m thinking about how blog culture started, with people using online platforms instead of a private journal, I guess writing your thoughts down is really what blogging should be about.

So why did people start to write public online journals? Was it maybe to give others a chance to participate in ones life, or to feel less alone with all kinds of issues? I’m not sure… However, I’m sure about what writing in general means to me.

Let me tell you a story. When I was little, around 7 years old, in an assignment at school I was asked to describe a beautiful winter scene. (I must admit I love winter, please don’t judge.) Seeing the pretty landscape, in snow covered trees and all that sparkle of snow in that picture somehow gave me, a 7 year old child, so much inspiration that I wrote a little poetry. God, how much I wish I’d still have it. Anyway, I wrote this poetry also because I thought that any other style of writing would not make justice in describing that winter wonderland I saw in the picture. The moral of this story is that I’m creative and I love to put the world around me in words, written or verbal, bring it. Though writing is always very special, because I can re-read it if I wish, apart of course if those pieces of writing didn’t end up in a bin like lots of my creative outputs (thanks to my mom, but that’s another story).

Now thinking why I ever put writing on hold, makes me wonder why would I not exercise something I love. Is it the lack of time? Is it that I needed time to bring English, which is my fourth language by the way, to a certain level of fluency? Questions over questions, but the most important thing is that I’m here, right now, writing…

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