Not exactly writer’s block
More often, I’m the type of writer who has way too many words than the type who gets stopped up (I’d call it word diarrhea even). Therefore, it’s almost a godsend that I’ve become a bit more picky about what I’d like to publish on this blog. Seriously, this internal censor is quite a good trait that I’ve developed. I used to blog endlessly about anything and everything, but these days, I’ve become more selective, trying to structure my entries around a single topic (with requisite divergences of course). It doesn’t always work, hence the ridiculous amount of partly finished drafts, but I hope I’m sounding more cohesive than I used to.
(Now, if only I could centre an entire blog about a single topic, I might be getting somewhere… Alas, I’m happy with sticking to a single topic per entry for now.)
To take care of all the word-overflow that’s not made it onto this blog, I’ve been writing more in my private journals that I keep at my bedside. Since I’m so lackadaisical when it comes to using paper journals, I currently have two partially filled journals that I’m working on finishing. One of them was started back in the late 90s. The other was started more recently, at least early 2000s. I don’t have any idea what I’ll do with them when I’m done other than stick them with the rest of my paper journals, but I do like starting a new journal and then (eventually) finishing it. Part of me wishes to burn my old journals, but then part of me likes to flip through them every so often so I can laugh at how silly or melancholy or overly dramatic I was in some entries.
(Some of my teenage journals are so appropriately angst-ridden that they are very interesting to re-read and see how I’ve changed, hopefully for the better, over the years.)
Of course, there is very little censoring happening in these paper journals, so I get to read all the really stupid stuff, e.g., petty complaints about people in my life, small (basically minuscule) accomplishments, and highly embarrassing unabashed bragging. Apparently, I’m pretty awesome, and I’m not shy about it. In the same breath, I should mention that I’m a psychotic maniac prone to crying fits and screaming rages. And I get excited really easily. Really easily.
[Warning: Tangent Ahead!]
I’m not sure if I’ll ever grow out of that kind of stuff, but I’m okay with that. I used to wish that I could change my personality. Ideally, I’d love to become calmer and less excitable in general, but I’m not sure if it’s possible. One month, I tried to be less excitable and honest, it was one of the worst personal goals I’ve ever come up with, almost as bad as the time when I tried to become more introverted. I’m a firm believer that people have some very basic personality traits and while other things about the person may change, those very basic traits may remain the same for their entire lives.
And yes, this means that I think being easily excitable is one of my basic personality traits. What I become excited about might change, but when I am focused on something in particular, everything about that topic gets me riled up. That even includes people! I still get very much overly excited when I get to meet up with friends that I am very fond of but don’t see often. Often after meeting with them, I’ll ride on a high of happiness, causing me to tell Frannie all about our meeting in sometimes excruciating detail. The boy is a saint for putting up with me.
[And this is where we doe-see-doe and hopefully promenade it back to the original topic with a thoroughly ungraceful transition phrase…]
But anyway, I may continue to be easily excitable for the rest of my conscious life (until my brain turns to mush and I become a vegetable), and I’ve come to terms with that. It’s probably the reason why I like to write so much. There are way too many words and stories stuck in my brain and I feel like no matter if I wrote for hours and hours, I still wouldn’t be able to get them all out!
Now if only I could devote as much time to proofreading and structure as I do to spewing raw writing and maybe I could actually get somewhere with this. Until then, I’ll satisfy myself with the meandering blog entries and random paper journal entries instead.