Wednesday, February 14, 2007 9:39PMHave you ever had so much to say that you cannot possibly say any of it? I know that sounds stupid, but I've always found that when there's a lot going on all at once, I never write any of it down. Entire years, for instance, are missing from my journal, and it is in those years that, perhaps, I've had the hardest times. In my first-year English class, we learned about absence vs. presence in
The Turn of the Screw and what it meant of the importance of events to the narrator based on whether they were described or left out. God, I miss English class. I don't miss essays, really, although I sort of do.
I wonder what has happened to my creativity over the years; I think I used to be an at least half-decent writer back in the wonder years, but now I can't even formulate complete stories, not even just in my head. Occasionally I can see a perfect vision of a single scene in my head, but when I write it down it seems wrong, or maybe sometimes it turns out fine but then there's still the problem of there not being a rest of the story. It's just the one scene.
Sometimes I'm pretty sure the only thing holding me back is me. I should just get over it, right? You'd think that if the only problem is me, then I should be able to stop myself from, well, stopping me. If that makes any sense. I'm afraid to do the things that I think I might want to do, because it's too risky and I've probably never taken a risk in my life. I wouldn't trade who I am for anything, but sometimes I really hate the problems I cause for myself.
I worry about the children growing up these days, and the state of the world they are growing up in. They have never known a world without high-speed Internet and rampant cellphone use and Heaven knows if they'll ever write a letter with old-fashioned pen and paper and send it by post. They'll be too busy sending e-mails or playing games so realistic-looking you can't tell they aren't actually real at all.
Sorry the above is so disjointed. I typed all of that on my work laptop a week ago while I had a rather large headache and after thinking deep thoughts all the way back to Toronto from Cornwall. I couldn't help it; my Snicket book only lasted me an hour, and then I was left up to my own devices for about another 3 hours. The above is the rather train-of-thought-ish result of that...those are just pieces of complete thoughts, really, and there is likely more that I could say about all of those things, but that's what I've got here for now, in all its [mostly-]unedited glory.
As
Izzy once told me, if I'm hesitating now on actually posting this, that's the surest sign that I should go ahead and just do it. So here goes, I suppose.
P.S. In other news, I won two free passes to watch an advance screening of the movie
300 on Monday. I wasn't sure if I wanted to see that, but hell, free movie? Sign me up! Heh.
Labels: general, thoughts
