“Show, don’t tell!” This is something that my teachers have told me over and over again since I started writing academic essays. My excuse has always been ” I need inspiration.” or ” I can’t write about something some one else tells me to.” So, I am told that until I get over this mogul I will be slow and rather crippled in my academics. But I believe that there is a way to find what you have passion for inside of everything….so here goes…..
This essay is trickling out of my bubbly center, like there is a very small leak in a very large plastic pool. It has always been difficult for me. I seem to have a lot of trouble encoding and transcribing what other people want me to write about. It could be that I feel my writing is better than what they want, and is only fit for things I deem important, but I know this can’t be true. As a writer I would be considered a fish out of water, flopping around hopelessly on the rough un-finished deck of a boat that we call life.
Perhaps my problem is that whenever some one tells me to write about something, I immediately decide that the topic is used and dried up. (If someone else has thought it up then they have the right to write about it, and I need to find my own bone to pick with my inner psyche.)
However I feel my real problem with writing someone else’s words isn’t either of the things above. It is simply like trying to find a bird swimming, properly swimming, not just a dive down and then back up with a fish in its beak. Unless you are in the Antarctic this is a very hard thing to do. You see, if I am writing someone else’s words, it is their passion I am writing down, not my own. It is their dreams and thoughts and decisions, and I simply don’t like being the documenter in this world wide court of law. I would rather be the lawyer screaming and fighting for the rights of his clients, or the judge sitting above everyone else passing the judgment and making sure all the proceedings are fair and clean.
I don’t get enough of a chance to write down my own dreams or my own words. Because of school and adolescent life I am always using up all my words on someone else, as opposed to me. And when all my words for that day are used up and I don’t have the desire to write anymore, I can’t sit down and enjoy scribbling a passage of poetry simply because I have no words left to say to a page. I have to wait for them to come back and settle and fester and ferments into something beautiful. Like good wine, good words take a long time to culture, and when they are all being poured out prematurely into the air on stories and essays and simple straight forward documentation, these words never get a chance to mould and rot into the beautiful cocktail they should have become.
If I knew a way to use my words for the simple work of school and communication and in some way have those same words congeal into a fantastic dessert of smooth, runny, poetic justice, I would also have a herd of flying pigs. However I believe that this is possible, and every person has to find their own way to do it. But words written for one purpose can seldom be used for another. It really is a pity we can’t live in a perfect world and that money doesn’t grow on trees.
I believe that everyone can find their passion and drive in any endeavor.
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