Perhaps because as every other person, I like to believe that I make my own choices. I don’t want someone looking at me and immediately know how the puzzle falls together, how my family relations and childhood shaped me until who I am today. Like anyone, I want to believe that the choices I made were my own and not the result of a predictable pattern.
Tag Archives: writing
How to follow through
When I really want something I’m almost afraid of saying it out loud. It goes with things I want to quit, want to start or want to be really successful in. But I’ve noticed that it doesn’t work like that and that it destroys my goals rather than builds them. As human beings we need community, we need to share and show and talk about things and I want to shout at God for creating us that way at the same time as I want to thank him.
I want to be able to do everything by myself. I really do. But lately I’ve told a few people about a few things that were really important to me. Some of them I never even realized I’d kept as secrets, while some of them were things I’d thought I’d never tell a living soul. And that’s the only thing that worked. Things I’ve thought about quitting for years, my secret dreams of what I would really like to do when I quit school and grow up. If there is one thing I’ve heard way to many times, it is that you should share goals you really want to keep. With family, friends, or someone on the internet. But it was one of those quotes I never thought applied to me until I noticed that it really does.
Writing
I write because I’m terrified of forgetting. Because everything that happens to us – every experience, every emotion – and even things that don’t, things that just passes through our minds for mere moments, it will all sink into nothingness. Become a piece of the past, and the past itself is something that doesn’t exist. It did, but not anymore. And when I write, it’s like I chain those moments to reality. I think writers should be called heroes because they save.
At the moment
I do not precisely love the place I’m in right now and find myself elsewhere in my mind, not just up in the clouds with my dreams and ideas, but somewhere else as in I like the future better than I like now. It’s a trap, and I know that, because future is just another name for the now that is to come and by hiding further into the future I’ll never reach it, sometimes I just have to remind myself that there’s always a purpose for me being right where I am now, and perhaps tomorrow I’ll be somewhere else.
Moleskine journal
Words and dictatorship
Media is king and we’re its peasants, master the internet and you master the world. Since perhaps ten years back. The world is changing, and it’s no longer the authors that control it. And perhaps we’re free in a way, it’s no longer the few people rich enough to afford books that know things, but we all have information and news at our fingertips. I thought about my friend with dyslexia and how she finds so much joy in being able to master the internet with photos and paintings. She doesn’t need words to say how she feels. But then I thought about her difficulties in school. Or when it comes to reading music, it still affects her in a lot of areas in her life.
And I realized that we’ve only changed the way we use our words, not how much they own us. Today, every person with a blog is a writer and we share our lives and feelings on social media without pause, we just usually don’t care as much about how we say it and how we use our words as an art form to express ourselves. Instead they’re a necessary mean that is about what we say and do, instead of how we say it. The art of the written word has been pushed away into the dark corners of the internet. And the art of the spoken word is in many ways since long forgotten.
Or has it just moved into a quiet dictatorship? If you master your words well, and for that you can be a rapper as well as a poet, you can have the world under your feet without people even noticing that it’s you they’re listening to.
Even though the dusty old poetry books are a source of magic, the source of the art of every single written and spoken word, rests within all of us. Anyone who cares about getting their point across, or want to be able to tell a story in a way that will make people laugh, have their hope in mastering talking. Anyone who wants their essays to be the very best, who want to blog with a voice that people listens to, have their hope in mastering writing. And anyone who wants to be able to ask the right questions by sorting through the 90% bullshit in every conversation and get to the core of what actually matters, have their hope in understanding what words are, how we use them and how other people use them.
The word is dead when the world shuts up.
Sunshine in the rain
I like it when the weather is feeling slightly confused.
Gift
Look at this beautiful scarf my friend got me from Vietnam.
I forgot my heart
Sometimes I get so wrapped up in things I want to do and feel like doing and don’t feel like doing and kinda have to anyway, that I forget to stop thinking. I forget to feel life, and start to experience it simply with my mind. And then I’m suddenly shaken alive, God wakes my soul up, and so I go back to feeling. I feel everything and it’s like having an additional sense. Or bigger than that, like the way I normally go around, thinking about stuff and experiencing them with all my senses, is fine. But what a poor way to live. And when I go back to happiness that warms my heart and tears that wrecks it, it’s like all my senses had lost their meaning until now when my heart feels what it knows so it can believe it.
Moleskine drawings
I recently fell for the peer pressure and bought myself a moleskine notebook. I never quite got why they were so special, but then stumbled upon great things about them on the internet and when I found out they were used by people like Hemingway, Van Gogh and Picasso I couldn’t quite resist. So anyway, I thought I was gonna post a few images of what I’ve created in mine so far.
eirians 