I’ve tried something a little bit different today. Its not a poem and its not really a thought or story. Instead, a sort of more creative way of writing out a thought, but almost verging on (very) short story. I can’t really explain it, so i’ll just share this little bit of writing and you can tell me what you think…
My simple world
It was late. Yet I still kept writing; scribbling away on pages and pages of once pristine white paper. It felt almost terrible to cover something so pure in the scrawling mess of writing that was so haphazardly forced upon it – The paper’s purity slowly being enveloped in a writer’s struggle to express the feelings he know he feels, without knowing exactly what they are.
Reader, I ask you whether you also have felt emotions that don’t seem to fit the limited vocabulary we have devoted to feelings? After all, we all are so different from one another that what we feel and how we are affected by the strange happenings of the world surely cannot be completely described in ways we can accurately pass onto others.
It was one such feeling that I slaved upon into the early hours of the morning. It had been troubling me for a whole day now and seemed particularly out of the ordinary. How could one conversation change the whole of my simple world?
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All I have is thoughts that I cannot convey…
All I have is thoughts that I cannot convey…
so many thoughts here…I love the purity of the observations about pen and paper…we are all so different and yet so not at the same time. I think the more I write, the more that words aren’t enough, and yet they are. I think pondering just goes deeper and deeper, and yet is in the safety of “it is what it is”. Great blog post.
thank you for your input 🙂 I agree with you when you say that the more you write, the more words aren’t enough, but i’d also add that i feel that words also gain more meaning; its just that as we write, the way we think expands perhaps at a faster rate than how much more we see in each word. I’ve personally taken to keeping my notepad next to my bed when going asleep (as thats when most of my ideas pop up) and I can just scribble down little things before they dissapear again. hence why the words are ‘so haphazardly forced’ on the pages.
I like your expansion of thoughts. I agree. The power of words, juxtaposed to the “more I know the more I don’t know” concept” is an interesting dual hold in life…very cool to ponder.