It is not what you write, but who you are

If you ask me I wouldn’t know how long it takes for an average person to finish writing a thousand words on a blank sheet of paper. Many would say it won’t take that long if given the right topic but I personally feel I would need at least ten minutes or days.

Thinking it over, some people write everyday, some write weekly, some even don’t. Others like writing in the kitchen, kids like writing on the wall, teenagers write mum-dad-I’m-running-away-from-home letters, freaks write death notes and so on and so forth.

It seems writing makes our world function. Hey, it helps publish my blog that I read myself!

Whatever it is, all of these are vulnerable and all of them mean something. Those written words and writings are driven by a compulsion to put some part of us on paper. Writing is never easy to me because I don’t just write what comes naturally. But ultimately, when we make the effort to sit down and to commit an act of literature, it must really mean something. It might not be something significant to others, but it means something to you.

This sometimes, is enough.

Writing stabilizes my being. It is like an escapade. It heals when I need a lot of help to take my mind off the unhappy events that happened during the day; like a salvation. Although so, I find the self who emerges on the paper a far stiffer person than the one sitting down. It is always a problem to find the real person behind all the tension.

Eventually the product that any writer has to sell is not his subject, but who he is.

Can such a thing be taught? Maybe not. But it can be learned.