Writing because I can

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Have you ever wanted to pick up a pen and just start writing whatever comes into your head, without any concept of where you’re going with it and without any goals for said piece of writing? Just writing to vent. Writing to get it all out of your system and be purged of whatever it is that is infecting your brain.

I do. All the time. Trouble is, I don’t have time to write all the time. Not for myself anyway. I write for work – mostly corporate, though I do get to write the occasional article. I love the work I do… wait, let me rephrase that… I love doing the work I do (since I usually don’t love the product I produce, but I’ve been told that it’s good and I will believe the people that tell me that…)

The work, however, takes over the brain  – the infectious thoughts, the half conceived story lines, the inspiring monologues, these are all pushed into the back, stored up or forgotten. Which is kind of a shame, because I think a lot and odds are at least a small percentage of my thoughts are going to be interesting to someone, somewhere. Maybe even mind-numbingly awesome… though, I’m not sure I want to numb anyone’s mind… that seems contrary to the purpose of writing. I’d much rather provide the reader with mildly humourous sidebars that lead nowhere.

See, now you’re nowhere.

So what does one do when wanting to write thoughts and not having time to do so? Me, I started a blog… though, as those of you who read my first post will know, at the time, I didn’t know WHY I was starting a blog. I just did.

I’ve realized that it’s to fulfill this need I have to express the otherwise ignored thoughts that flutter through my mind on a day to day basis – the elusive butterflies that flap excessively, causing little whirlwinds of thought dust to circulate through my brain.

I also realized that not everyone wants to read about what I have to say. That’s ok. This just happens to be one of those thoughts that isn’t an inspiring monologue. It’s just a ramble about how sometimes, I’m going to write stuff that’s incoherent, boring or even *gasp* littered with grammatical errors and spelling mistakes (oh the horror!!!).

Knowing that not everyone is going to love everything you do all the time is one of the first steps to being able to do what you love, all the time. I’m not perfect. I’m not even terribly interesting (I like it that way). But that’s ok because I love writing. Why? Because I can.

Am I alone in this desire to just pick up and write… all the time?

If I am, that’s fine. I don’t mind. If not, I’d love to hear from other like-minded people!

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