I tried to hold off on forming a blog with my writing, really, I did. This is partially due to lack of faith in the medium. I feel as though it is too unlikely for any profundity to manifest itself here… The other part is simply that I have so much of my writing actually scribed, that I care not delve into the realms of unbridled streams of thought onto the internet, until now.
When an individual writes his thoughts on paper, there is collateral damage, albeit minor. The finite supply of paper and ink inherently forces one to organize his thoughts in a succinct way before committing his hand to the mechanics of the documentation.
On a computer, I can easily type out my most profound philosophy, the most poignant recollection of love, the most vivid illustration of any number of experiences… And then, as if it never happened, delete it.
The tragedy is that there is nothing left. Nothing tangible to show of these thoughts. With paper, at least the minutiae of remnants will forever occupy a space, whether it be in a book, in a landfill, or folded away and neatly tucked inside a winter coat’s pocket. The space is uniquely dedicated to the emotion that moved one to put pen to paper.
The intimacy of cordoned thoughts bound by a spine will always be where my truest views are manifest, but perhaps I need an outlet that facilitates a stream of thought. A constant flow of wordage that takes up no space and carries with it no consequence.
I will see, I suppose.