Writing The Wrongs

During my time of absence from the blogging world at large, I've come to realise that trying to quit blogging's somewhat like trying to get an exhaust pipe to surrender it's carcinogenic activities amicably and dispense nicorette gum instead. There's something largely therapeutic about putting pen to paper, putting paper to shredder, and then starting all over from scratch with nothing but a sliver of a thought and a sense of purpose. Unfortunately however, both of which usually end up either largely incoherent, wholly misguided, or a gourmet concoction of one measure of each.

It seems like shifting the writing process into first gear often involves clutching, often rather clumsily, at whatever straws happen to pass by on their way to wherever straws head to in their leisure time. At other more enlightened moments though, there tends to be a faint flicker of inspiration from somewhere which stirs up the desire to wax lyrical. Though it is one thing to think of something to write about and what to say, and yet a completely different thing to finally get to click the gloriously orange 'publish post' button down below. Knowing my ocd self, it takes roughly about five re-readings and edits before any form of exposition gets to see the light of day, and we're not even talking about the number of times the baby had to be thrown out because the bathwater just wouldn't go by itself.

Sometimes the words just don't fit right. Sometimes the tone of the piece flows so poorly it makes you think of something which would've been written had Roald Dahl a bit too much green eggs and ham to eat. Sometimes you finish with the body, and realise that the tail doesn't quite stick the way they do on donkeys. Sometimes you lose your train of thought (happens that in the world of writing, locomotives aren't particularly as conspicuous as they should be). Sometimes you don't know how to express the ideas swimming around your head. Sometimes you'd just rather go watch an episode of House.

But it's a love-hate relationship like that. Eventually you know you'd want to put your thoughts into words. And when you do, you'd want them to come alive for everyone in the same way that they're alive for you. It's a form of catharsis, almost.

Continue a blog? It just seemed the write thing to do.

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Note: I realise that the photos selected have seemingly less and less significance with regard to the content of the post, but I shall blame it on the lack of exposure my camera's been getting. If my camera was a person it would probably look albino from the lack of going outdoors.

Oh, and speaking of abandoned drafts, there's currently about four half-baked posts waiting to see the light of day, but I doubt I'll ever get down to clearing those