Why should we honour those that die upon the field of battle? A man may show as reckless a courage in entering into the abyss of himself.
I was listening to an episode of the New Yorker fiction podcast where they discussed a short story about a young Porterican boy that lived in New Jersey and they mentioned how the story had “autobiographical elements” because the author of the story was also a Porterican who lived in New Jersey which led to a long discussion about how writers of minorities are expected to write about their communities.
All that made me think about blogging, and how open and free and brave it is. All other art forms: short stories, novels, movies, and plays almost always talk about imaginary people and things that took a place in imaginary worlds. Songs are vague and ambiguous. Nobody can say with complete certainty that this novel or that song is about something in particular unless the artist concurs.
But when you blog, it’s implied and understood that you are talking from a personal experience. You are talking about your self. You’re exposing your self; the flaws and the strengths, the struggles and the triumphs, to the world.
To blog is to be free of all fears and expectations. To blog is to say: come at me, world. I’m here, and I’m ready!
Sit down at a typewriter and bleed.
All my life I have considered writing to be my calling, my destiny, my raison d’etre. I have started writing at a very early age, and I wrote everything. Everything. I wrote poems, short stories, and articles. And as I got older, I realized that most of what I wrote, including what got published, wasn’t very good. I then stopped writing poetry and focused on prose. Later, when I got busy with school and life, I stopped writing all together.
Now that I’m getting back to writing, I have been asking my self: does loving something automatically means you are good at it? Where did we get this idea? When have Hollywood rom-coms ever been a reliable source?
I have come to know that life isn’t that kind, which is why I think that no, loving something doesn’t always mean you are good at it.
But, but, even if you are not good at something, if you love it enough, you should do it (unless, of course, you love being a brain surgeon, in which case, ignore the above.) So, be prepared to read a lot of mediocre stuff here, because I love writing!
It went many years, but at last came a knock.
It has been almost nine months since I wrote my first blog here. I thought I was ready to write and share my thoughts with the world, but, as it turned out, I was not.
I have drafted so many posts in the past months. I have wrote so many notes on my iPhone. I have thought of so many ideas and things to say, but I couldn’t get myself to publish anything for mainly two reasons: the first one was that I felt nothing I wrote was good enough for me. I felt that everything I wrote needed more time, more work, more research, or more reading. And the second reason was that I realized that I can’t write freely about everything and anything; I can’t write about religion or politics as much, as open and as harsh as I want.
Last week, I was discussing these problem with my sister, and she said that maybe if I wrote under an alias, I could get my self to write more freely and publish easily.
The idea was very, very appealing at first. It had everything I wanted: getting my words out there, and at the same time, it would save me form all the troubles that exposing my thoughts would cause.
But then I started to think deeply about it all, and I realized that getting my name on what I write is, in some way, the most important aspect of writing. What good is my writing if I’m too afraid or embarrassed to write under my own name? Would what I write really counts and matters if I, the writer, couldn’t take the responsibility for what I write, whether it is good or bad?
I want to write about things that matter, and I need to do it proudly and openly.
In the beginning was the pale signature.
I have been writing my whole life, and since I joined Tumblr on October ‘09, I have created several private blogs where I frequently practiced writing. I finally decided, after a long hesitation, to share my writings with the world.
I didn’t come to this decision easily, for writing, often times, requires exposing one’s shortcomings, life obstacles, and psychiatric struggles. Also, when it comes to writing, I’m merely a beginner. I still have a long, long way to go.
So, why have I created this blog? Well, it’s because I feel that I need to have something to show for my existence; all the years I have lived, all the things I have experienced, all the books I have read, all the cities I have visited, and all the people I have known, and I can only do that through writing.
This blog will be dedicated to my original writings. All kind of writings; be it in Arabic, in English or in any other language I have the pleasure to perfect later on. Be it an article, a story, or just a mundane rant. I’ll also post some of my old writings.
I’m not sure if I should press “Create post”…