Writing to Share
A cold wind blows through past passageways to the neglected websites of the internet. a There a corners and doorways that lead to under construction gifs that have not changed since the nineties. There are half finished school project, old portfolios created right after graduation, final entries that celebrate weddings and new jobs, travelogues that predate social media. There are entries that promise new and exciting projects followed by years of silence and final entries documenting battles that the author likely didn’t win. Stumbling on a unmaintained personal site can make you sad. I hope that is not your experience when you visit.
Whoever you are, whenever you read this, I hope that this finds you well. Thank you for stopping by and taking the time to read.
This entry is about writing. It is about the personal writing I have been doing for since I stopped updating the site in 2021.
Writing for myself started on the train to work. I connected an external keyboard to my phone to avoid carrying the work computer and the personal computer. Dreams of creating novel based on running experiences filled my head. The book was going to be a triumphant series that would ultimately end with a Boston qualification. I’d write it like a journal and edit into something readable later.
Daily entries were happening but they weren’t what I thought they would be. They weren’t about running, they started get more personal. I soon realized the words weren’t for other people. The next thing I realized is that I needed the words more than other people did. I’d never written daily before. The act of writing felt wonderful. It was helping me understand my own thoughts better, it was helping me think clearer. I gave up on the novel and kept writing.
After that, sentences no longer needed to be altered to appeal to mass audiences. I felt free and light when I wrote. Long dormant parts of my brain woke up. Holding the rest of the world in my head stopped being a requirement for every word typed. A first draft of something wasn’t just creating another stone to hang around my neck. It didn’t have to be anything until I decided I wanted to be. Writing was not creating a task for my future self to review. It could just be for that moment and that moment alone.
I could just play with the words like making patterns in the mud or whistling a tune while strolling along a trail. It could be ephemeral. Something as permanent as text could still be ephemeral! It didn’t have to be for anyone but me. It was ok to write for me. It was ok to enjoy the writing the same way I enjoy a good run or a good cup of coffee. It could be for that moment only. It could be joy for joy’s sake. It was ok.
Almost every day, I’ll set timer for ten minutes and just writing whatever comes to mind. The text might be a simple journal entry about the day before. It might be bad poetry. It might be a conversation with my subconscious written in the form of a short play. Sometimes, it’s a technical post that doesn’t get published. The important part is letting my hands take the thoughts from my mind and put on a screen for a moment. The practice has become essential for my mental health. It feels good
Keeping the time short means that I don’t feel like I should be doing something else. I don’t feel the pressure to be somewhere else or working on something else. Ten minutes. There’s no reason that I can’t be selfish about ten minutes. I can take that time to myself. Sometimes that negative part of myself thinks that I am too busy. The thought sounds silly when I think it it. I laugh and tell that thought. I can’t spare ten minutes? How ridiculous? How ludicrous? What kind of warped reality am I living in? Of courseIcan spare ten minutes for myself
The timer forces me to connect to my inner thoughts faster. It forces me to get into the moment on command. I get to know myself better. Unknown thoughts bubble up and find themselves on the screen before they can be pushed back down. Time slows down for those ten minutes. Those ten it can change the course of the day.I can be angry and upset and then kind and understanding. I can be panicked and paralyzed and then calm and productive
I write faster now. My typing has improved and I’m less likely to paralyzed by a blank page. When the words need to flow, I can make them flow. At work, I can put instructions for a readme together faster and even just respond to slack messages. For someone who has struggled with neuro-typical communication, this is a lifesaver. It’s a tool that I am so grateful to have in my toolbox.
Unfortunately, there isn’t a collection of finished work in my hard drive. There is no great novel or essays with revolutionary insights. No poetry that could be shared. I posted some small pieces to reddit under a penname. In my folder for writing,t here are some half finished technical posts, some half started short stories, a dozen or so poetry-like entries, and almost two hundred thousand unedited words of daily entries. None of it written to be shared.
So why am I sharing now? The simple answer is that I bought a new computer and working on the website go easier.
My kid recently asked if I could help her make a game on Roblox and they did not have an development platform that would work on linux. My grandfather recently passed and we have all these cassette tapes that he sent us from Australia. I bit the bullet and picked up an M2 MacBook Air. Now it’s easier to work on my website. My older slow computer with a questionable battery life didn’t find get used outside of the house, it took too long to start up, it’s old and things were just starting to break.
Hopefully, with the new computer, I can force myself to publish a little more. Maybe, I can interact with the world a little more. Maybe I can get better at the technical posts and start sharing them on linkedin. It’s a nice thought. For now, I just want to be better. Writing to share and practicing editing should help me be a better writer. Writing for myself has helped me understand myself better. Maybe, writing more for others will help me understand them better.
I am happy to have found joy in writing for myself. I hope to bring that joy of back to my personal site. Hopefully, it will is no longer be a sad neglected site in a forgotten corner of the internet. Thanks for reading.
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