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On writing

I don’t feel that I write enough. Actually, looking now at a screen which contains those words, I don’t feel that this is true. Perhaps, just perhaps, the problem is not that I do not write enough — it seems that I am always crafting prose in my head — but that I too seldom commit that prose to any sort of persistent form. The words end up being transient, lost in the torrent which is my stream of consciousness.

Of course, many would argue that there is a large difference between writing and constructing prose in one’s head. I’m not sure if it is a useful one, though many would be surprised to hear me say that, seeing as I am an advocate of semantics and “calling each thing by its right name”. In any case, it is easy enough to understand what I mean. Every now and then I have the inspiration to commit whatever thoughts are bouncing through my head to paper. That however is rare.

I’m not quite sure why. Some of it, I think, is to do with my preference for introversion. To extract something from my brain and express it to someone is a draining thing. On thinking about it however, this doesn’t seem to make sense: why should it be draining to simply transcribe what is already floating through my head? No. Introversion is not the problem.

I think the problem may be that of the stream of consciousness. So many thoughts passing by, complex layers upon layers, all processing at once — not in parallel, but in a criss-crossed, interwoven way — such that to attempt to extract one from this tapestry is an extremely difficult task. The picture must first make itself clear so that it may be conveyed.

This, of course, is not always the case. Sometimes I have moments of great clarity, when the words flow straight from somewhere in the back of my head to my fingertips (I rarely actually write anymore, save for filling out forms and scrawling down details for people). Those moments are blissful, for as enjoyable as it is to have a world of stories, eloquent summations and witty discussions in one’s head, it is altogether more satisfying to share them.

Perhaps, having considered this problem while writing this little piece, this problem does not solely exhibit in my writing, but also in my direct interactions with people. I think I shall write about that some other time, for the sake of brevity (although I would not be surprised if many readers saw six full paragraphs and decided that this was not worth their time). Of course, I do not feel it necessary to say that I will write more. I should like to, but I cannot make that commitment. At the very least, I suppose, the thought inspired me to write this.