Drabble:Double helix of a writer
Flavor is to a writer what fingerprints are to the rest of humanity.It sets them apart from everyone who strings words together to some end.I've read quite a few authors.Some are gifted.They have a style so wonderfully unique that I can read a single sentence of theirs and use it to recognize them without any doubt whatsoever.These people have been my inspiration and I have always aspired to write that way.I had some time on my hands today and I did what I promised to never do--read what I've previously written.Now, I feel miserable.I feel like disowning all that I've written till date:| It all comes across as generic run-of-the-mill writing.Zero flavor and very drab.
I concede that I have nothing to say about the world that hasn't already been said.All I can do is to say it differently. I lament that I can't even do justice to that.
My second woe is that I can't attain isolation between my writing and myself.This is solely restricted to my blog.(I have written previously and not faced this at all.It's somehow that things are getting more personal here).I end up mixing the two and putting out more personal content than I ever intended. Somehow,I have an opinion that I think objectively and that the same would be reflected in my writing.The joke is this:How can I ever look objectively at myself? All that I see is fraught with biases.It strikes me that even this,the very thing I'm writing,is subject to the same phenomenon.I shall never know for certain.I shall never see my work as an outsider.Ah,how I wish for that privilege.To look at it and really,really know what it's like. :(
Edit:When I wrote this,I was actually so depressed by my own writing that I contemplated taking down the blog.And then,I told myself to read this: https://virtualramblings10.blogspot.in/2016/10/perfection.html
That's it in a nutshell.There will probably never be a time when I like what I've written.When I can look at it with pride.Yet,I write.The reason being passion.I cannot stop writing anymore than I can stop breathing.Secondly,it's a pleasure to write(provided I don't read it:P)
About the articles going into too much detail about my personal life,I guess that's how I subconsciously look at this blog:a place where I can chronicle my life.That being said,I don't like the idea of a stranger knowing this much about me.Then again,will it matter to me in any way? Right now,I don't think so.Hypothetically speaking,even if someone stumbles upon my blog,they will not have the patience to read beyond a few articles(I'm looking at the average human being here).Therefore,I can safely speculate that my life history is for all practical purposes as invisible as it was before:P
End of story.
I concede that I have nothing to say about the world that hasn't already been said.All I can do is to say it differently. I lament that I can't even do justice to that.
My second woe is that I can't attain isolation between my writing and myself.This is solely restricted to my blog.(I have written previously and not faced this at all.It's somehow that things are getting more personal here).I end up mixing the two and putting out more personal content than I ever intended. Somehow,I have an opinion that I think objectively and that the same would be reflected in my writing.The joke is this:How can I ever look objectively at myself? All that I see is fraught with biases.It strikes me that even this,the very thing I'm writing,is subject to the same phenomenon.I shall never know for certain.I shall never see my work as an outsider.Ah,how I wish for that privilege.To look at it and really,really know what it's like. :(
My blog has turned into a personal journal that's open to the whole world.One reader told me,people don't even have to talk to you.They can spend a day on your blog and know more about you than your close friends do.
Edit:When I wrote this,I was actually so depressed by my own writing that I contemplated taking down the blog.And then,I told myself to read this: https://virtualramblings10.blogspot.in/2016/10/perfection.html
That's it in a nutshell.There will probably never be a time when I like what I've written.When I can look at it with pride.Yet,I write.The reason being passion.I cannot stop writing anymore than I can stop breathing.Secondly,it's a pleasure to write(provided I don't read it:P)
About the articles going into too much detail about my personal life,I guess that's how I subconsciously look at this blog:a place where I can chronicle my life.That being said,I don't like the idea of a stranger knowing this much about me.Then again,will it matter to me in any way? Right now,I don't think so.Hypothetically speaking,even if someone stumbles upon my blog,they will not have the patience to read beyond a few articles(I'm looking at the average human being here).Therefore,I can safely speculate that my life history is for all practical purposes as invisible as it was before:P
End of story.
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