Write Where I Need To BeI always had difficulty forming hobbies, which could be the reason why I never excelled at anything. My hopes and dreams of becoming a famous musician, aside from my inability to sing, slipped by as many aspirations had before. The dust gathers atop my guitar as if an indicator of the hours of neglect, the hourglass of my life.
Maybe the idea of travel appeals so much because my paws wander as fast as my mind does. Thus the idea of traveling blog came into mind, although instead of wandering to locations it would hopefully travel through internet space and land at someone’s screen for more than a second. My initial live journal site was no more than the occassional musings that crossed my mind, while I taught in Brazil. Sure it was also a way to keeep my family informed that I was alive, but more than that it was an outlet.
I’ve always considered myself a writer, not because I thought I was any good at it – clearly I’m no Hemingway. More so, I always thought I was a writer because I loved to write. I never really feared public speaking but my brain and mouth always seemed to be on different paces. Yet, on paper everything flowed out exactly how I hoped without words getting in the way. I was the typical angst teen, well typical in my mind, writing poetry and short stories that reflected aspects of my life, if only in my mind. I filled notebooks and binders, always wearing the mark of a writer, the smears of ink across my paws.
College seemed to steal that from me, or more so was a time where I gave up on writing. Writing became work, about history and studies of some pompus figure I was supposed to know every detail about. Yet, when I experienced travel, not a vacation trip to Disneyland, but real travel full of growth, doubts, loneliness and deep introverted thoughts brought on only by a long night of drinking as you watch the sunrise I rediscovered writing – I rediscovered myself.
Though, when the journey stopped – so did my writing. I still wrote on online forumns with the occassional blip of insights but as time passed on and the offers for jobs in far away lands failed to accumulate I seemed to loose my voice and drop my pen.
It’s odd how sometimes, you can be too close to a problem that is obvious to so many others, becomes out of focus for you. Though through a gift of a writing pad and the discovery of the online travel community I began to write. What followed was staggered steps as a mesh of online technical know how and old fashioned writing developed into my own site. While I continue to find my voice, develope my skills and fine tune my writing I also enjoy the simple pleasure of someone reading what I wrote.
I’ve always wanted a hobby and I guess after chasing various aspirations I’ve come to the realization that it isn’t something that you want to do but something that you just do. There is always the hope of becoming great and memorable at something but the truth has a story that reaches further then we realize. Long before others cared and even after they stopped caring altogether, those who will be remembered for their gifts and their talents will continue to do as they always have done what comes naturally.
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