Would it surprise you to know that I'm here at home writing this? Got myself a medical leave for today not because I too badly decommissioned with flu. And though I do have the classic symptoms, fever included, I could've still plugged through the day but chose not to for a myriad of reasons. One of which, if not the main one, was that I miss writing. And every single life stimulating nuance that flows from it. It is something that I intend to attempt today, hopefully without much distractions.
Any of you budding writers out there know what I'm talking about right? And you also know that in order for you to even get in the zone to even begin writing, you've got to get a hold of your muse. Whatever that may be - as it differs for different people and some even have more than one. Sometimes the muse comes, sometimes it lingers and sometimes, it too takes a day or year off. It's not something I can control at whim though I have tried forced-writing and have come out, most of the time, none too happy with the results. With that said though, muse or not, I will get some writing done today.
Oh and on a side note, why do people assume that poets who write would also be those who spout those written words? Can't I just be someone who writes or do I need to read what I write to someone too? Isn't the point of me writing for someone to read and not for me to read to them?
And why, oh dear me why, do people always think that I could just pull a stanza from out of the air? Or recite verses plucked from sheer nothing? Is it because they think they are my muse? Or are they trying to poke fun at the one thing in life I truly am passionate about?
Even the greatest writers in this world, past and present needed the time and space to create their masterpieces. And though I know I am not the greatest now, I definitely do deserve the time and space to explore the possibility of becoming great in the future, right?
No comments:
Post a Comment