...And I can't think of anything to write. I know I'm not a writer. I've read a bunch of posts on tumblr from different writers talking about the craft (yes, I'm using something on tumblr as an authoritative source in this matter). I don't have the compulsion to write everyday. I don't have stories bursting out of me or an inquisitive mind that needs to report on some troubling aspect of the world. I'm an amateur and that's the way I like it. It's nice to have moments to write something to keep to myself.
Saw The Stories We Tell a couple of weeks ago. It was fantastic. Got me thinking about memory, stories, and persona more so than usual. Not reliving my life but thinking about WHAT happened (Did I construct parts of that event? Did it happen the way I think it did?), HOW it affects me now, and most importantly HOW I remember it (Has how I think about it has changed over time?). These are fundamental questions of human existence; the unexamined life and all.
Ok, that last paragraph is a little bit of a mess. I'm going to leave it in as a quote. Here's what I was trying to get at - I take the Socrates quote regarding the unexamined life seriously. The only thing I can truly control is HOW interpret my memories into stories I tell. I pick and choose what parts of my life fit with my current personality and discard the rest. You do need to, from time to time, reflect and sometimes confront who you were. This is how we build self-esteem and have self-worth. I'm not an anxious person but like everyone I do have those random embarrassing memories float to the top of my mind every so often. All I can do is acknowledge them and move on. Regardless on how this sounds, I think this process is necessary in order to be an interesting person.
Guess when given enough time I can find something to write about.
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