I once read, to be a good writer, one must, write, write and write a lot but more than writing, one must also read, read and read a lot more. Pretty much a good tip- not very specific but it made sense. So I take the advice and practice what I have been told. Now, I write, write and write without even knowing what I am gonna write about. Does this make sense? Isn’t it that when one writes, there must be a central topic? There must be a goal or a purpose. It appears to me that as of the introduction of whatever this is, I am unaware of what I want to write about.
Where does one begin when he or she doesn’t know where he or she wants to go? Is it by knowing one’s decided destination or is it by threading whatever path is on one’s way? On the other hand, what if one knows where he or she wants to go, but sees no available path that leads to the place of interest- does one need to change his goal or just close his eyes, walk the way and hope that whatever he saw when his eyes were open was deception- that the truth is, there is a way to get to wherever we want to go.
When in constant motion, as science claims, change in speed is zero. Does this explain for the need of one to fall before he can experience the joy of success? Is zero change boring or is it fulfilling? What if changing meant deterioration, will you still welcome change or just go with the constant movement of time?
Now, how does one know when to end? Will there be clues? Will feelings arise? How does one make sure that it all ends well? How is well defined anyway?
I don’t know.
Some things are like this journal entry – a waste of time. But how do you freakin’ waste time when you need that to live? Isn’t anything needed and used not a waste?
I began without knowing what to write about and I will end being unaware of what this blog’s topic is. But some things are that way too, some feelings cannot be expressed by words. Sometimes, all we need to do is to do it, whatever that “it” may be.
I felt like writing. I did the “it” that had to be done. It may make no sense to you, to me or to anyone else but so what. Some things are done just for the heck of it and somewhere along the way, you’d figure out why you did it, or not.
In my head, I was about to end what I started to write about. But it seems that my fingers are more powerful as I continue to type this unworthy-of-being-blogged blog entry. What’s the standard of bloggable entries anyway? Who knows?
Whatever is unwritten is probably what I really intend to say, so if you mind, help me figure out what’s deep inside by reading between the lines.
