Wrote this in today’s edition of my daily-ish newsletter. Subscribe here. Thought it deserved a wider subscription.
What I write, to be honest has nothing to do with my book or the film. Neither it inspires any of my readers to do anything extraordinary. But to me, writing is about writing for the sake of writing. You know, getting some words on paper (or keystrokes on a laptop) is like the best thing that can ever happen to me. I mean, I can’t paint. I don’t have the ability to hold attention. I am not well-read (ok, I read a lot but I haven’t read deeply about things – you know, have merely scratched the surface). I cant doodle. I am not funny. I have two left feet (so dance is out). I am the greatest bathroom singer to have ever walked the Mother Earth and thus I must never sing outside. The guitar and the Uke are rotting in some corners in the house. Bicycling is not my thing. Clubs are boring. I’d love to take photographs but requires way too much patience. Video games were a thing when I was younger – now, I don’t have the reflexes. I would watch TV when I had more time but with attention spans getting shorter and time becoming increasingly rare, I tend to pick other things to invest my time on.
So, I am left with writing as the thing to find an escape. And to find inspiration. And to try and get to salvation. Of course, I am yet to reach a point where I can say that I am good writer, the point, ladies and gents, is, writing is what makes me happy and makes me forget the fuckeries and vagaries of the world around me. And you know what, I am grateful about it. I just need to do a lot more of it!
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Originally posted in today’s edition of my daily-ish newsletter. Subscribe here.