The urge to write has never been there in me. I looked at writing regularly as something that every writer has to do to reach a level where they are fooled into believing that what they write is decent.
Today, I feel an urge to write. It’s quite a new experience given my love-hate relationship with words. Words have built me into who I am, an erratic self that flips personality every week. Sometimes I am an absurdist like Camus, “opening myself to the gentle indifference of the world”. Sometimes I am an individualistic like Ayn Rand, “learning to say I before I can say I love you”.
A sentence flows my mind into a daydream and then a full-stop rips me apart with its abruptness. A comma drives me into a stream of consciousness and an exclamation raises my attention.
To think of writing as a breather to the chaos of my mind was always a fantasy. Today, it’s keeping me awake till I can bullshit this thought beautifully into your mind. It feels like I, a cupid, has fallen in love by hitting myself with an arrow. Like a story, this is the point of change in a character that is needed for him to rise up in the grand scheme of things.
Stephen King talks about writing 2000 words a day, Ray Bradbury didn’t skip a single day of writing in 67 years and here we are waiting for inspiration to arrive. Giving excuses that stop our progress of becoming a better self than yesterday.
I would like to list a few figures, books, songs, and artists that have inspired me to say the truth inside these lines so it’s on record that I just need to read them again if I feel empty in my words.
1. Fernando Pessoa
2. Albert Camus
3. Plastic 100 degrees by Sampha
4. Kendrick Lamar
5. George Orwell
6. Charlie Kaufman
8. Billy Collins
9. David Foster Wallace
10. Kurt Vonnegut