The feeling of writing

Having the urge to jot down things that have crossed your mind throughout the day is very exciting. But the moment you put your fingers down and are about to start typing, your mind goes blank.

Like empty. Totally bare shell inside. If you are an introvert, an anxious person; having numerous thoughts running through your head non-stop like a running vehicle on a long trip all the time, it is mind-blowing when suddenly your mind simply shuts down. You are just staring at the blank white screen.

Being a writer and wanting to become a writer are two completely different things. The jumbled, broken thoughts, the lookout for a connection, the type of writing simply do not make sense in any way, I guess until you start pressing those keys on your laptop. One can only assume, but once the words start to appear on the screen, everything else simply follows. If not, gradually at the very least. But nonetheless, the thought process that runs through the minds of any writer is quite unique to each individual. There definitely is not only one way of writing any piece.

I am not a writer myself. But I do have my own way when it comes to writing and it varies from time to time. I remember the first time I wrote for an English paper (academic) - it was a pretty standard piece of writing, but they liked it and appreciated it. It was something new for me and I simply wanted to continue to write. Just write whenever I get the urge to. Truthfully, I find great joy in writing. Few short stories, ballards over the years. But with time I lost touch with it. Getting back into the habit of writing is quite tough.

I do hope to tell a great story one day. Maybe in the form of a book. Fingers crossed. Preferably a novel. It is a long shot, but I will definitely publish one book in my lifetime. Truthfully I want to enjoy that momentary peace that one feels while sitting with your laptop on an open bench with nothing but tall green trees everywhere.

I found a place just like this. It was by far the most remarkable place I discovered while cycling through the city. Towering lush green pine trees surrounded by a layer of dry leaves all around. Train tracks running through a small tunnel, crossing a small cabin, not long ago turned into a charming station with white-picket fence all around. A narrow trail wanders through the forest, opening up to the forest beyond. I stopped and found a spot on a bench underneath the trees, soaking in the refreshing air and listening to the soothing rustle of the leaves, which soon gave away to the sounds of little rain droplets. In the meantime, I was fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of a train rolling through the forest. Those twenty minutes, truly the finest I have experienced in a considerable time.

Irrespective of the place or time, I will definitely keep writing. I will not lose touch with writing this time. Just like E.L. Doctorow said - "Writing is an exploration. You start from nothing and learn as you go."