It is a strange thing really, growing up with the love of books that I have, yet having an intense dislike of writing to the point that I avoided it as avidly as I pursued reading. I must confess that until the age of about 22, except for a small bout in my youth where I wrote a few poems, the awkward ramblings of a 13 year old who had spent too much time reading fantasy books, I stayed as far away from writing as possible.
Now this may have come about due to a few factors, the main one that sitting down for long periods of time was a painful experience for me except when it involved reading or playing video games. Unlike some of the blessed children who began writing at an early age, my gorging on books did not correlate with a desire to write out my thoughts.
It may have also come about from a dislike of school, none of my teachers instilled any desire in me to write, and I also from a young age experienced pain in my wrist when writing after only a few minutes, which turned me off of writing anything, especially not for pleasure.
I must confess that the initial reason I began to write was after hearing and reading many people talk of the health benefits of writing a journal, writing down the days events, working out issues, thinking about what you are grateful for.
It was in this beginning that I found that writing was a fantastic outlet for the constant stream of thoughts rattling through my skull, threatening at every moment to break through and lay me flat on the floor.
This may not have progressed very far, as I still find myself getting wrist pain when writing by hand sadly, even though I feel that there would be benefit to keeping my writing there as it is a more personal way of expressing myself , but luckily the 21st century has brought us the computer, which has allowed me to bypass this unfortunate pain by typing on a keyboard, and alas leading to me start blogging and sharing my thoughts with others.
Regardless of the pleasure writing gives me, I still find in myself a general dislike of it. You see, although I am sometimes filled with inspiration and a part of my brain exclaims in delight that I must run to the keyboard and quickly let my fingers spew out a delicious word stew, I still find the larger percentage of my mind saying that I would be better off just letting the thought pass as I usually do and go back to reading or go for a walk(both fine ways of passing the time to be sure).
Yet I have forced myself again and again to get my cute little bum over to the keyboard and type out some poetry, make a video or write about whatever it is that has been buzzing in my head incessantly lately. The reason why is that, if so many of the people whom I have taken great pleasure in reading have said that the best thing a person can do is express themselves through writing, well then of course I must write.
I love reading, and I have learnt my most important lessons from books. Hence it makes logical sense that as I learn and ponder and make connections in my little brain, so I must then share those thoughts with others so that I may improve myself as a person and generate ideas in others, who will then hopefully go on to read more, make connections, start writing, and then I will get to read their thoughts on all that they have read and thought, and the circle goes on.
So in essence, I write because I want to read, and I read because I want to learn, which helps me to write, so that others may learn and then write and so help me read.
And so, I am not quite sure how I managed to write 700 words on this, but I had to get it out of my head for some reason.