Part of living online includes reading other peoples blogs and commenting on them. I always wonder if I do that right because more often than not, I end up talking about myself way more than what I just read. Yes, it is connected to the post but I cannot but infuse it with some of my own backstory.
For a while now I’ve been feeling as if I’m leaving parts of me on other people’s blogs and I should be better at keeping up with them. It wasn’t until I commented on one of Risha’s posts that I remembered a comment I left at Lor’s that I wanted to remember in the first place. On my phone I ususally make a screenshot of text things that I need to remember. It’s not the best way but one that is practicable at the moment.
Funnily, I get hit by writing ideas of stories that I would love to tell or try to at least but who am I kidding, I will never make the time for that. At least not right now which is why it’s so important to keep my inspirations and comments somewhere safe; to get back to them when I have finally found a way in this life that allows me to do everything that I want to be doing. I understand how naive this view is and life will never quiet down so that I can just take a deep breath and get around to doing everything that needs attending to.
As with the two posts mentioned above, I just want to roll around in Risha’s feelings (and her writing because gahd, I love the way she writes) and forget my own. I want to amend her post with my own thoughts and feelings
what fascinates me most are the emotional turmoils of people. I want to dive head first into them and lose myself in what makes other people tick. Or tock, depending on their preference. I want to put my finger on their emotional scar and squeeze a bit to intensify the experience. That’s what I want to explore while writing. Plot arcs and adventure are all great and nice but I want to see my characters bursting with joy; depressed; mentally tormented and unstable.
One can’t go without the other but as a writer you have to find a certain balance for yourself and I guess I know where my own would tend to. I do use the term writer loosely when I talk about myself because I don’t feel like I deserve to call myslef that. I haven’t written enough. Maybe there will never be enough for me to feel this way, who knows but for now it’s a cop out. I’m not a real writer, not by my own standards and that’s fine. I’ll just keep my ideas in safe places like screenshots and documents, on sticky notes and whatever else is around at the time.
All for a future that never comes.