I’m sitting here, staring at Windows Live Writer, struggling to figure out what I’m writing, one word at a time.
You see, I “have a blog” if it could be loosely defined as such. I very rarely post things to it so it’s tough to consider it a blog really.
I enjoy writing, I really do. I even do think I’m actually good at writing. When I do write something I get many very kind and encouraging comments.
“Dude, i was seriously blown away by your TrimetDiaries piece. Really excellent, funny, and well written. “
“Eerie, but awesome!”
“sweet! Write! ;-)”
“Holy crap! That’s amazing! You oughta write more, Mike!”
“No, really, that’s outstanding. Quit hiding your writing – use your gift.”
“ Holy crap, your story is amazing. Write more. Lots more.”
“Must-read, eerie & true story by @mikerigsby at TriMet Diaries:”
Staggering and amazingly generous comments that I don’t feel worthy of receiving which makes me grateful for every reader I get.
But, here’s the kicker. I can never think of anything worth writing about.
I’m an IT Geek by profession. ‘Ok, write about that!’
Yeah, just like thousands of other Technology professionals that are both higher skilled in their profession and are more experienced in writing than I am.
I commute daily via Trimet public transit system. ‘Ok, write about that!’
Yeah, ok, I do actually. I write A LOT about it, on Twitter.
So what do I need an actual blog for? Honestly, I have no idea. Precisely why I at least stick to a free site since I really don’t do it enough to pay for it.
When I do write, I do it because something has hit me personally as important. The feeling is difficult to describe in words. It’s like something inside me is demanding to be put into text.
A piece of your soul that is screaming “Make me real! Make others feel what you feel!” “Make me heard by others!”
A feeble attempt to make a physical representation of a ‘feeling’.
Sometimes it works and the feeling is amazing.
It’s like a release. It’s almost sexual. An intangible force of the universe that you’ve single handedly made exist. Made real. You’ve created something from nothing.
Sometimes it doesn’t work.
You get an idea, a feeling. Something that seems like it’s good, it needs to be ‘made real’. You struggle to put words together to make the feeling real and you try to put it into text.
You put an effort into it, get it out there to the world and then look at it. It just isn’t right. Doesn’t ‘click’. The experience wasn’t satisfying. The release just didn’t happen. That feeling is still in your soul like some jailed creature still screaming to get noticed.
There is no acceptable middle ground if you’re ‘a writer’. As good old Master Yoda say’s “Do, or Do Not. There is no Try.”
When it works, the feeling is amazing. When it doesn’t work, it’s a failure. An urge that never gets satisfied.
The pressure to perform is staggering really. The compliments are amazing when it does work but all they do is increase the pressure for the next ‘release’ to work. To get itself heard in reality.
What do I do?
What do I write about? How do I continue to fill this addiction. This need for the next ‘release’ to be as good as it was before. When it really hit the mark.
Where do the words come from?