Saturday, November 20, 2010

A Simile Is Like A Metaphor...

Writing is an odd thing. In so many ways, I feel not only like the words that I put down here reflect me, but that the words are me. Some guy who I've never heard of (turns out he's a sports writer. whoops.) once said, "There's nothing to writing.  All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein." I like that quote, even though I don't like sports writers.

So often I feel like my writing is just a written record of my heartbeat. That's when I read something that I wrote years ago. Rarely a good idea. Sometimes I'll come across something I've written years ago and I'll just be appalled that I could've called it finished. Sometimes I won't even recognize it as something I myself created. That's never a good thing.

You'd think that if I had taken the time to compose something, and that if that very thing had come from my own passion, that I would remember it, but it isn't so. Some pieces, however, I could write in 15 minutes, then recite verbatim for months. The inspiration hits me like a lightening strike and leaves a scar that I'll never forget.

But what about papers that I write for school? I could make that crap all day and never give it a second thought. Even though that writing is completely meaningless to me, teachers will always praise me for my 5 minute essays that contain nothing memorable. They're simply 5 paragraphs of me telling them what they want to hear, but I could spend 100 years forming what I consider to be my literary masterpieces and no one might ever read them. And as much as the idea of that may bother me, I'm actually pretty okay with it in reality. It's probably just because I find writing so cathartic. So for the 3 of you who follow me, thanks! It means a lot to me. Regardless of who may read this though, it's probably more for me than it is for any of you. I just thought I'd make this known so that if I say anything horrible about you or just start making inside jokes with myself on here, you won't be offended or weirded out, because it's not you, it's me. I still want to be friends though.

1 comment:

  1. I feel the same way. I threw out a bunch of old notebooks when we moved from when I was a teenager. I read through most of them ( like you said, never a good idea.) Somethings I don't remember and don't sound like me.

    I like reading this, even though it's for you. It is probably the best way to get to know you.

    You're a terrific writer.
    -Shayna

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