Every once in awhile, I remember first starting to write a blog on Slow Wolf. It was a time riddled with new discoveries, memes, new people, a quality of work that was also fun rolled into a really neat, tidy package. Most of all though, I remember a thirst for typing, an urge for expressing myself that felt so much easier than any other form of expression at the time. This was particularly interesting because, at the time, I had just started my music degree: you’d think music would be my primary method of expression!
In any case, the purpose eventually changed. I went from being this young, naive writer to having a thirst for popularity, quite literally in the space of a day. I had one of my articles linked on a big newsletter blog that thousands of people had read, and my blog went from a couple hundred views to a couple thousand. I was so excited by this that I very nearly missed classes that day!
For a long time afterwards, my purpose to writing was no longer about me: it had begun to revolve purely around writing for the sake of others. I wrote guides, I wrote about the changes to my class and others, I started to really concentrate on writing about things that others would find helpful. Writing for the sake of writing, at that point, had fallen by the wayside and been left to carry dust.
When I quit writing Slow Wolf the first time, I had done so not because I really wanted to stop writing about WoW, but because I had to stop playing to earn the respect and love of loved ones. That’s when I started writing this blog, Phil, Meet World. I went from reporting on my games, to reporting on my life. With the hope that it would grant me the same satisfaction, that’s how this blog started.
Eventually though, that fell apart. My life, at a certain point, began to feel tedious and benign. Not worthy of mention, if you will. This was compounded when Lorelai left my life and I left hers, and my life fell into a dark gray area. A lot of colour was lost at that point, and I felt like a lot of things in my life no longer made any sense. Writing fell into that lot.
I eventually tried to write again as a way of moving past that gray, but it dogged me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that writing, as a whole, was no longer exciting or fun or anything. It was simply tedious, laden with the burden of having to entertain people. At the very least, I felt that any writing I was doing wasn’t fulfilling its purpose of providing the internet as a whole with something interesting to read.
As such, writing had to take on a new role for me yet again: and for a while, I couldn’t think of it. During that time, I tried to vlog but… oof, what a failure that was! Honestly, it was like replacing Ray William Johnson with a small redheaded midget with 2 front teeth missing who could only speak broken Swiss German. In a monkey suit.
Happily, for a whole 3 or so posts, I was able to find a new purpose to my writing: explaining and distributing ideas. I was happy to write and describe ideas I’ve had, or perhaps had epiphanies of, but something didn’t work again: my old self, the popularity hog, got caught in the mix again. I wanted people to discuss them, talk about them. To think about them and tell me what they thought. I was fishing for answers to thoughts I had, things that had been bugging me, but in the end it turned out I was fishing in a fishless pond. When you’re just writing a small blog, you can’t expect hundreds of people to read a few words you have to say and have a large discussion, especially when what you wrote was a wall’o’text.
And so, the blog died again around the holidays.
And now, I’m writing again, and after thinking about why I wrote before, I have to ask myself the question: why am I writing again? What is my purpose in doing this?
For once, I think I can happily say I’m in it to write again. For the sake of writing! After some encouragement from Kitty, I realized I missed having an outlet to express ideas: what, when my music composition is horrible (just trust me, it’s bad when I have to rely on Garage Band to give me sounds to wrok with instead of having the creativity of coming up with them on my own) and my ability to draw is limited (when I hold a contest and the reward for winning is a drawing, I could have guessed the number of applicants was reaaaaheheheheheheehelly low), writing is about the most expressive art form I’ve got.
So, why write?
Because I feel like it; and here’s hoping that it stays that way.