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I Miss Writing


 I miss writing.

It’s been so long since I just wrote. Wait, that’s not entirely true. I write a lot, when I really think about it. I write stupid little snippets beneath my Youtube videos, in an extra bid to win the Subscriber. I write silly snags of prose for the Instagrams posts, in an extra bid to entertain, I suppose. I still write in my journal. Words spill out of me, generally, and I don’t think about them. 


But I miss writing writing, you know? The kind of writing where I just sit and have fun with words. I mean, I guess I do that in the aforementioned occasions. What constitutes ‘writing’ anyway? I write music. But not really, because it’s chords and clicks and strange noises that emerge from the flex of my fingers, and there’s no pen to be seen. Now I’ve gone on a tangent about writing… What I’m trying to say here is that I miss sitting at my desk for a good ol’ juicy writing session. That’s pretty much how I spent last year. My main project was The 10th Rule, my first book. But now that the actual ‘writing’ part of it is done, I’m left with a manuscript that I have to slog through again, to fix errors, change certain character names, pay close attention to character mannerisms and flaws, etc etc. Editing.


My life has become editing. 


Is this what Life is then? This grand sweeping process of editing. Editing our work, editing ourselves. Refining, chipping away at the block, smoothing the rough edges. Perhaps that’s it. Am I a philosopher yet? I don’t mind editing, in truth. It definitely can be creative and fun, especially editing a video, for example. That’s a fun process. But editing writing? Blah. And in fact, the editing of my book has really slowed down recently, as I just haven’t had time. I’ve been too busy working on my Youtube channel to look twice at my prose. And then there’s University. 


I need to edit my schedule. Maybe that’s how I will achieve the goal of writing more. Because I do love writing, and I do miss it. I wrote this in one go, stream-of-conciousness style, because I wanted to. No editing this one, because I’m tired of editing (hah, I literally just went through and edited this sentence because I spelled ‘tired’ wrong (Jokes on you, Josh A!)). I want to get creative, and spontaneous. Re-write the creative process. 


I write for me. But strangely enough, when I was writing regularly, people were actually reading my work. It sounds completely ridiculous, but more people read my blog posts than watched my Youtube videos or listened to my music. Why? Surely it takes considerably more effort to read a story than watch a video, or plug in headphones. I’m still baffled. I’ve always struggled to capture ears with my music, and yet my word somehow caught eyes. Or minds. I don’t know. I’m opening up, creatively speaking, unleashing the beast. Maybe I was born to be a writer, and not a musician. Maybe I was born to be both. Maybe I was born to be neither, and I’m just some fellow who played with words and musical instruments too much, chewed on them, threw them away, found them again, chewed on them, threw them away again, found them again…


It’s time to write more. As freely and spontaneously as I make my music and Youtube videos. If you read this to the end, (and God only knows why…) please comment your thoughts. I’d love to know if you liked this open-feed style of writing and expression. Because there’s more where this came from. I mean, look above this sentence - it’s all just a bunch of random words strung together, a wall of random nothing. There’s no meaning to them, unless you decide there is. 


Just words. But I like words. Do you? 

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