Occasionally, and increasingly often, I get this strong urge to write something down. The urgency is driven by the fear that if I didn’t write it down, it will slip away, it will be lost. From the moment I get a thought to the moment I have written it down, it completely occupies my mind. Everything else becomes less important. If I am in a conversation, I zone-off. If I am working on something, I put a pause to it. It feels very precious in the moment.
I have started to love whenever this happens. I like that something engages me so deeply that other things take a backseat. I have started to love writing.
At first glance, the thoughts I scribble down seem ordinary, yet the process is anything but mundane. It’s the act of structuring an argument, simplifying an abstract concept, or drawing parallels between unrelated subjects that brings me immense joy. Nothing I write is original or new. It doesn’t add any value to the world. It’s an amalgamation of things i’ve read or felt on my own (more former than the latter). Although some friends mention that they have found some new idea here, that they hadn’t thought of, to which I would reply back citing a bunch of sources which are similar, except that sometimes I wouldn’t, enjoying the fleeting sense of pride in having created something new.
Two years ago, I started writing, as something I “had to do” as part of therapy. Of all the techniques to practice, Journalling stuck and I still do it regularly. At the same time, I was also devouring self-help books and upon encountering a new idea, I would have the urge to tell everyone. The urge crystallised in wanting to make a blog and write those ideas down. That’s how Thoughts and Worries came into being.
On a deeper level, writing fills a void. It makes me feel heard. Even if no one reads (though I would appreciate my friends reading it), the very act of writing and putting it out on the internet makes me feel visible. “I exist, and my words matter”. It relieves me of the feelings of invisibility that haunted me during my younger years.
It’s one of the very few things where I am indifferent to external validations — recognition, money or approval of my parents/friends. My first blog was on Wordpress, and I had integrated likes and comment section. Later, I found myself growing obsessive about which post is receiving the most likes (which was Life is like an amusement park, people like well-crafted analogies). By gamifying it, I had adulterated the very process of why I started writing — to be able to write my thoughts in a plain, honest way. That is why I don’t have a like/comment section now.