It's not reassuring to reflect back on posts from years back and wonder whether your intelligence levels - at least in terms of writing and such - haven't decreased.
On contemplating possible reasons why:
Maybe the lack of English classes (that I had at school) has affected my grasp of the language - negatively.
Maybe I have become too yoga-like; too non-attached, too simplified, that I see the world in black and white. (On this possibility, I have had someone proclaim exasperatedly "But Leila! Everything is not so black and white as you see it! There is grey area inbetween!")
Maybe I've become less pompous and wordy and get my point across better, without the necessary faffle.. (Oh you foolish 17yr old, who even tricks a future you into believing you know it all!)
Or maybe I just analyze things less and it's beneficial to my overall happiness?
I know writers are the ones who will chase heartache and unrequited love - morbid as it seems - to inspire them, (why is it we struggle to write about happiness? that sorrow and pain flows more easily, the words like blood from our slit fingertips?), but I have always been reluctant to tag myself 'a writer' - I do not know whether I deserve the title I afford so much respect.
I suppose that, as ever, my lament has no purpose (My tea has gone cold, I could probably do without the extra sugar in any case), but I feel it must be noted, if only for my own pride, or for posterity (Oh posterity! How many undeserving items you pointlessly claim).
One can only hope that I am not in rollerblades, atop some hill, slowly rolling down... or worse, not only there, but with some naughty child ready to push me and speed my journey - Oh why, why!, must everything that goes up come hurtling down? I would have myself special enough to overrule gravity. Silly girl.
1 comment:
Don't seek approval. And don't apologize. ;>)
Feel the same way. But don't have time to improve my English. I have several books on writing. But no time to read and to study.
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