On writing

I write, today I am writing about my writings. I write for a very simple reason. My writings are on my usual days, about my daily life and family chores. Most importantly, writing structures my thoughts.

Stephen King, in his memoir 'On Writing', says that writing is not about making money, getting famous, or impressing people. It is about enriching the lives of those who read your work and enriching your own life in the process. He describes writing as a form of telepathy: a writer places thoughts on a page, and years later, another person can experience those same thoughts. I like that idea. My writing serves an even simpler purpose. It helps me understand what I think. In future, I can go back to my writings and feel the feeling of the moment.

Memory is unreliable. Experiences fade. The details of a conversation, a journey, or a lesson learned on a difficult day slowly disappear. Writing pushes back against that forgetting. It creates a small archive of a life.

Sometimes I revisit a blog post written years ago and feel the moments that I had almost forgotten. I remember what mattered to me then. I see how my opinions have changed, or how they have remained the same.

I also maintain a journal.  I often write about two entries per week. I like pouring my thoughts in paper. I expect nothing out of it, but it feels so good to record the minor things. Major events, I will remember anyway. 

My blogs are the way to share my stories. I am an unsocial person with no Facebook nor Instagram. I like my own little bubble of blog, which I keep to myself and my friends and family who like to hear my stories. The connection is never guaranteed, but I keep my stories open. I do not consider myself a writer. I am simply someone who pays attention, reflects, and occasionally leaves notes behind. For me, that is all writing really is, a conversation with myself that I am willing to share with others.

Long after the moment has passed, the words remain. And sometimes, that is reason enough to write.