December 8, 2013

We Never Stop Writing

Today felt like a different day. It's been four years since I've last written anything worthwhile, but I woke up this morning and realized that something felt different. There was a strange nostalgia in the air, a reminiscence that reminded me of a time I used to write endlessly; when words used to flow through me like water through a sift. Every thought, idea and dream amalgamated like a pot of fresh tea leaves steeping in hot water; fragrant but refreshing.

It's been awhile since I had my thoughts put down on paper, or typed onto a computer and posted online for the world to see. We have Facebook, Twitter and Instagram for that now; status messages and micro-blogging have completely taken over what's left of conventional sharing. Anonymity is all but gone and privacy settings have taken the main stage in protecting those who really care about who sees what.

And here I am, back behind the mask to write. Over the years, my identity has slipped out somewhat and most of my regular readers have either met me, added me on Facebook or become close friends. A colleague even knew I was a blogger when we were first introduced, although it was a relief that he could not recall the blog (this one) in question.

For four years, I bid farewell to the need to write. Good company replaced the need to rant anonymously to the world, as friends and family became my therapists and my listening ears; taking over the role of what blogging was for me when I first started.

Yet, here am I today. Why am I writing again? Am I hoping to reap some sort of peace or attention from the vast entity that is the Internet? Or is there, perhaps, some truth to what my ex said last week: that I never stop writing because that is the essence of me. The wordsmith; a writer through and through.

Who knows why I write what I write, but there is no denying it though. In spite of all that's happened, I still write. A lot of the friends I have made online from blogging have stopped writing, while others have faded into non-existence, but I am still here. I still write because we wordsmiths...

We never stop writing.