Writing. Reading.

Sometimes I crave the feeling of a pen on paper. I associate the soft scratch and bleeding ink with a sense of peace. I’ve inked a lot of stress, anxiety and angst onto blank sheets of paper. Shamelessly, I’ve transferred the scrawling words to .txt files and cut and paste them into blogs or added rhymes and called them .HEREtoday. and Sweet Old Etcetera songs. And for what? Well_multiple things. First and foremost to relieve pressure in my brain by getting thoughts OUT and onto a page. Second because I am the type of guy who needs validation and affirmation to feel alright, and sometimes, in my pride, I feel I can manufacture it with wit and “wisdom.” Finally, pride aside, I do believe I hae something to offer. My experiences are not unique, but my perspective is. The combination of experiences is unique even if any one particular event is not.
And so I write.
I think more people should write: particularly my wife who writes beautifully. The process of writing, especially with a pen on paper, forces you to slow down a bit, to evaluate a bit and to connect patterns you may miss when you are always expressing your thoughts through your mouth.
I think, also, that we should read more the simple short thoughts of others. It’s good to read experiences in real-time through blogs and short articles rather than digesting whole books. Though I do LOVE books. ‘Til next time.

Some blogs/articles I like (I don’t have time to look up more for you):




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