Swim in My Universe

We all live in parallel dimensions. It is as though there are multiple universes. My universe is different from the universe of the cubicle mate who sits around the corner. His universe is different from the universe of my boss. No one of us has the same perspective as another. The seconds of our lives tick by without ever truly knowing what another is thinking or feeling in that particular second. We can only read or learn about said thought after the fact, and by that time, that particular thought in that unknown second has already been filtered, distilled, or expanded and expounded upon.

Is it the pure thought that is more valuable, or is it the revised thought? This is not a question anyone can truly answer. You can make arguments for both. The pure thought is raw, closer to what you really think, and probably closer to what you feel. The revised thought has been refined, weighed and is closer to what you want to think or want to evoke.

In high school, I took a creative writing class. Every day, we had a few minutes of free writing. We were supposed to write down anything and everything we were thinking until the time had finished. I came up with my best story ideas in those few minutes. In life, our minds are always free writing, but we never jot it down. When I started this blog, I did not know what I was going to write about. All I knew was that I wanted to get something down. I wanted my thoughts to flow and to think of something that was not in the monotonous flow of my daily life. I wanted to write about something that had nothing to do with the regular flow of my universe.

Sometimes I am so dramatic.

And she scribbled madly - March 4, 2007

Writing can be such a laborious task for me. The inspiration to write comes at various times of the day. I can be watching a news cast on the television or a listening to the radio, and a rapid succession of thoughts hit my brain, and I think what a nice blog they would make. But I forget, or, more often than not, I think that perhaps I do not have enough knowledge in the subject to write a credible piece. What are left are journal entries about my thoughts and fears, and this, I believe, can become tiresome.

My need to feel authoritative on a subject is perhaps why I did so well on essays in school. I cannot be content writing on a subject unless I truly know it. So I would often get the required scholarly sources, but I would also read on the subject on my own from other "non-scholarly" sources to get a feel for the subject. It is easier to form an opinion on something once you get to see an event or subject from all angles and not just facts.

Another problem I find with writing is that despite the fact that I have read an incredible amount of books, they have become blurred in my mind. I do not remember characters, authors, or sometimes even the plots unless I take another scan of the book. Once my memory is jogged, I do okay. I get embarrassed and sometimes scared at this. It is like my brain unloads the memories as soon as they are not required. For this reason, I have kept my notes from my university classes, and reread the books I truly enjoy. There is a comfortable cloud of knowledge in my brain somewhere. It just travels around, and unless I am like Buffalo Bill and lasso this cloud as he did the tornado, it can be elusive.

All this notwithstanding, I do enjoy writing. I should do more of it. I could write a book about my life that would be quite depressing, but since I have lived a scant 24 years, I think I can wait a few more decades before I undertake an autobiography. Maybe there will be something more eventful and less sad. (I think I am a cheerful person over all.)

I used to carry around a notebook so I could write down my thoughts as they happen. I will buy a spiral notebook and begin the practice once more. All I need is time.