Reason for Living

A post that was begun before it was thought out. Isn't that the way all good posts begin? Admittedly, I have published very few posts in this blog lately. I have quite a few drafts however, half sketches of half crazed ideas formed during periods of half consciousness during the time of mellowness between the end of school and the beginning of my after school activities. Phrases that have popped into my head which I haven't bothered extrapolating upon to form coherent sentences, and, even more intimidating, paragraph structures. So, like always I'm going to set out to make this post a complete one. Whether it makes sense or not will remain to be seen.

Okay, here's a small sub-topic that might tide me over while my mind searches for something to rant about: Do different people interpret the idea of "completeness" in different ways? Think about it for however long you feel comfortable doing so. For example,. int eh above paragraph, I said this post would hopefully be a "complete" one. What did I mean by that? That it was my standard five or six paragraphs long? Is that when a post is "complete"? Or when I pose a rhetorical question, follow it up with my somewhat cynical view of reality and how the truth for this question may be uncovered. Maybe throw in one or two witty jokes, poke some fun at a few stereotypes along the way? Is that when a post is complete? Or, even deeper, are my post's complete when they force my reader to seriously consider the question and it's ramifications on their life? Truthfully, I have posed no such topics thus far that would so drastically alter someone's perception of the world. But that is certainly something to strive towards isn't it? I believe if every writer worked to change a single person's opinion of the world, then we'd see a lot better examples of good writing out there in the world today.

And now I'm rambling.

Here's another small sub-topic: It is extremely hard to write and think coherently when you're listening to music. Currently I'm listening to Prayer for the Dying by Seal, from his old album that came out in 1994. Over a decade ago. That was quite a bit of time ago. And yet, for some strange reason I love his music more than ever. I can't stop listening to it. And not just one or two songs. The entire album. Every song, from first to last, click the repeat button, turn up the volume on my speakers, sit back and enjoy. Best served late at night.

It isn't helping me to think though. But I feel great. i'm just typing and I'm aware that I'm not making any sense, but my fingers refuse to stop because if they stop then the truth of what I may or may not be saying might catch up to me and I can't, at all costs, let that happen. When a writer truly sits down and considers what he/she has written, there is always the fear that they may find a flaw in their own work. In many cases not a flaw. But a contradiction, a mistake. They didn't mean it exactly like that. Sure the gist came across okay, the overall point of the piece of writing survived relatively intact, but now, 10 minutes later, 30 minutes later, two hours later, five years later, when you're looking back on what you've written you are unable to escape the conclusion that the person who began writing was not the same person who finished writing, and no matter how fast you write, you'll never be able to convey your thoughts completely accurately, completely up to date with the way your mind is turning over and picking apart the things that you're writing. Is that why so few people choose to write? I don't think so. I think the best writers are those who are not able to write fast enough to capture their thoughts like water streaming through a close pair of hands, but instead good writers are people who are able to pick their stances on subjects that are so broad and meaningful, interpretable on so many levels, that after everything is said and done, the reader will ultimately fail to understand the true point the author had in mind, the true point; lost amid the countless symbols, motifs, themes, fancy words, and creative uses of imaginative punctuation.

So there, that was quite a bit of ramble. My point? Seal is an amazing singer and I think it's a downright shame to consider the shabby shape of the modern music industry in comparison to such giants. Mellow giants. Giants who didn't wish to stop being giants, but rather wished to accentuate other areas of themselves.

I'm not a giant, and I might not ever be. But if I do become one, some day, whenever that happens, I can only hope I'll have the strength and self-integrity to preserve what small amount of principles I may still have. They're flowing out of my mind pretty fast, and I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep them there, cupped in my mind.