A temporary high
Not an original title, I’m just a fan of AURORA.
You know what I love? Writing. You know what I’m not a fan of? Typing. Letting my pen bleed ink on paper has to be one of the most satisfying things I can do. The feel of each wrist motion making violent movements as I spill my mind on blank sheets is euphoric to me, it’s simpler. But when it comes to typing, I feel so unmotivated. It’s why I haven’t posted my writing in ages. I can sit for extended periods of time writing on paper, but once it comes to typing……it’s just not it for me. And that’s kinda bad isn’t it? In a world basically run by technology, I’d much rather just write on paper. There’s something about looking at a bunch of words made up by pixels rather than ink that just puts me off. But of course….what can I do ? “You better get with the times” my friend always says. No one’s going to read the stories swirling around in my head when it’s just locked away in a book somewhere.
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I remember back when I was 11 or 12 years old, I’d “borrow” a suspicious of amount of A4 paper from my grandpa’s study and staple them together. I’d then head into my room and just sit at my disorganized desk scribbling away for hours. Back then, my classmate got me these headphones for my birthday. They were black with red highlights, wired and took in an SD card of all my favorite songs. Late at night when I was certain I wasn’t needed for errands anymore, I’d stare at the blank A4 paper, equip the headphones and just start writing. I felt high, euphoric, ecstatic , whatever you want to call it. But of course school and time made that high “temporary”. It’s an odd phenomenon that when you’re having fun, time seems to move faster. And while writing, before I knew it, the sun was up and reality smacked me in the face. Even back then I had a hard time sharing what I’d written. I believed that what I wrote was just a raw projection of an over saturated fantasy expressed on paper. I felt it had no structure, no plot. But, the few people who managed to get their hands on my book praised me. The praise felt so odd because it went against everything my mind had told me or rather everything “I” told myself. I still don’t believe I’m a good writer, because for some reason I always chase perfection with the stuff I write. Recently I just learned that your work doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to exist. The digital platform is great place for people to critique me and make me better. Not everything can be done alone, apparently there’s a plethora of stuff you need people to help with.
I’m making this as a promise to myself to not only write but also “POST”. That’s the most important thing, sharing your work no matter how flawed it may look to you.
I’ve recently taken an interest in photography. Writing and photography, they’d make a great couple don’t you think?
