To whomsoever it may concern,
there was a time when i had forgotten the magical effect of words strung together into sentences .
I read once that if the desire to write is not accompanied by actual writing , the desire was not to write in the first place. So the past few months have dragged along, boring me to death with their monotony , as i sought inspiration from life , and the universe, as though feeding an ancient grudge against my feeble , mediocre mind , continued to deny me.
There were , of course, a few noteworthy events, birthdays, festivals, and other things that people choose to write about . But they were so utterly commonplace that i could hardly put forth an opinion of comsequence, after all, everyone was saying the same thing.
I suppose that’s where the problem lies for all of us. in saying the things that matter.those and nothing else.
To be listened to , rather than simply heard. I suppose the only reason i haven’t written all these months is simply because i was afraid nobody would listen. They’d hear me and walk on, because they already knew or perhaps they didnt understand. Then of course the content had to be original, it had to be mine,not some copy-pasted paraphrase of a philosopher. It had to be mine, to make the difference.
So rather than conform to the high standards i had set for myself (dont be shallow, pretentious, depressed, sentimental or racist. Be funny, heartfelt and truthful) i chose to stop writing for some time altogether. Who looked forward to reading my rants anyway?
Turns out, there was somebody who thought my word mattered. somebody, who in times of boredom would open up this blog, check out the latest posts, read some comments, and move on to the next blog . In all these months of my silence, one person most deeply felt the absence of my voice, and that person was me.
I know , i keep posting about how i will write more, and be more regular and then keep disappearing. I know i’m the only one noticing these disappearances and reappearances. I know, there are a lot of people in this world and im just one of 7 billion different voices. I know a lot of things about a lot of things.
But it is through writing that i know myself best.
and thats why, i keep coming back here, day after day, month after month, to posts that have barely any readers at all. Because this is where i shout into the void. And god, it feels great to have a voice.
I hope that there are others who feel the same. it takes no great inspieation to simply voice your thoughts. And its okay if your opinion isnt the most eloquent of them all. Its okay to have a common subject or a weird fantasy. As long as your words are your own, nobody can stop you from writing your masterpiece. So go on, gream. Think. Type. Shout your heart out into the vast expanse of infinity regardless of who’s listening.
The world listens to those who love the sound of their own voice.