Gathering of the Figments

ArcT · Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2007 5:03 am Post subject: Why do you write?

An essay for you guys. If you want to do it. Faye originally showed me hers, which was something quite special. So here's mine. Do you want to do it? POST, PEOPLE!

Why do I write?

Why do I write? What makes me? I think it’s because I just can’t face myself. Writing, I no longer have to look in the mirror. I don’t have to listen to myself, I don’t have to watch myself, do the things I do, hear the things I hear, feel the things I feel. I don’t want to say I hate being me, because that’s exactly what I want to do. I don’t want to have to face myself, because I know I won’t like what I see. I write because I can escape being me, just for the time being. I don’t need to conform to anything, I can be whatever I want to be. I can be somebody else, I can shape something’s destiny however I feel it should go. I have control. I have no control over myself, so I write instead. I can’t help feeling responsible for all the things I’ve done, whether they’ve been intentional or not. I can’t help feeling that it’s all somehow my fault, that somewhere along the way, I’ve been given a chance I’ve just ignored. So I write. I write because I don’t have to be me when I do. The words on the page don’t have to be mine. I can be invisible, unneeded. I can be the blank piece of paper – I have no effect on anything. I don’t want to be myself, because I hate what it is. I hate all the things I can’t change, and I hate all the things I can change that I don’t. I hate all the things that I have changed for the worse. I hate all the things that I know shouldn’t be there. I’m tired of looking in the mirror and seeing the same tired face every time. I’m tired of feeling like I do for no reason, tired of knowing that I’m supposed to be happy and friendly to everyone, when all I want to do is scream. I’m tired of feeling this sort of sordid self-pity – that somehow, I’m not to blame at all, even though I know I am. I’m tired of the bitter taste that seems to come with everything. I can’t see for all the things that I know should be hidden. I’m tired of knowing that I’m going to do it all over again and mess up before long, so I write.

I write because it seems to offer me release. I can pour everything out onto a page, where the ink runs into the pulp and stays forever: a constant marker. I like to think of the pages as the ball of wool – that I’ve tied it to the exit, and as I delve further into F*ck knows where, I can drag myself back again if it all gets too far. I want to see if I manage to turn even a little better somehow, that one of the pages is turning back to where I know I want to be, but I seem constantly pulled towards somewhere I don’t want to go.

I write because it looks like it’s all I’ve got. The pages don’t judge me, the ink doesn’t laugh, and I feel like I can befriend the people I create. I can mould them into whatever I feel, and although I feel no pride in it, no satisfaction to be found, I like to think it helps. It seems to show me that I can do something without making a mockery of it all, and I just seem to be able to escape reality and sink into a world where nothing has to be like it is.

I write because I can create a perfect world, where everything is idyllic, perfect, and unchanging, or I can create a realistic world, where everything goes well until the most important point, before falling on its face and putting them all back to square one. Where things look so good on the outside, even the inside, but always leave a residue that seems uncleanable. Where people look at each other with dead eyes and empty hearts, always looking for something, and never finding what they need. Where it looks like salvation comes swiftly, but is really an uphill struggle for anyone who has a shred of decency and integrity about them. Where all around them, happy people can be who they want to be without any fear. I write because I have control.

I write because I feel a compulsion. I don’t write for enjoyment – I write because I have a burning desire to do so. I write because I can, because I am given the grades that reflect my ability. I write because I’ve been given this ability, either by a God I refuse to believe in, or by some other means. I write because I want to know that there are other people who feel like me. That there are other people in worse situations. That there are people that make my own feelings on life unneeded and unfair. I write because I’m not proud of myself. I write because this constant self-pity just shows me how unfair and ungrateful I am that I’ve been given all I have. I write because it shows me that I’m not the only one, that I am one of many who feel like I do. I write because it lets me see the other people around me unhidden. I don’t want to be the only one. I don’t want to carry on just wondering what might be if I actually tried to conform to everyone’s expectations. Maybe I can’t. Maybe I’ve been doomed to fail from the start, an experiment to see just how far you can push a human being before they snap.

And so I write.
_________________
And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything seems like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

DarkWaltz · Posted: Sat Feb 03, 2007 6:17 pm Post subject:

I write because I read. I think that is one of the main reasons. I love reading a good book. I love the plot turns, the realistic characters that you cry with and laugh with and growl at when they're being blind. I love the eloquence of the words that flow across pages and reach across time, that spark the imagination. I wish for that talent. I want to be like one of those writers whose book stays with you long after you've finished reading it. I want to have that power of and over imagination. To write a beautiful story that other people can relate to.

I'll admit that I'm another who isn't quite satisfied with herself. I have friends who wish they could do something like me, sure, but really? I'm not too fond of myself. My writings are a way of expressing myself. I read so many books, and I'm jealous of these characters. Especially those who live in a world with magic. Their life actually means something. So the journey is long, hard, and painful. But they actually DO something with their life. Sometimes I wonder what the point of my life is. I go to school, I dance, I ride, I play harp, I do school work, and what for? To eventually go to college and get a job. What for? To support a family. What for? So we can eat and so my future children can go to school and grow up and get jobs and support a family. It's a neverending cycle that I often wonder at the meaning of. But in those fantasy worlds, there's something to do. There's something that needs to be done. There's a real purpose. So, I write. I tell stories of the age-old battle between good and evil. Or in some cases, of the battle between two groups neither of which are either wholy good or wholy evil. But when I write I can feel good about something I've done, and I can enjoy writing of the lives of important people who are nevertheless just like us. When I write I can have done something that has perhaps made someone's day better. Or at least mine.

I love words. So that sounds strange. But I'm proud when my prose flows fluently and eloquently. When in words I can create detail enough for the reader to live this life. For the reader to sob when her sister dies, to gnash their teeth when the poor boy doesn't notice how much she's in love with him, to smile during a sweet family scene. So I have a ways to go. But I love it when I can write well enough that the words themselves, elegant though they may be, are only a window into the living story.

I don't really know why, but I've always loved writing. I just love to make up an original story that is real seeming and well written. I love to read so much, I would like to be able to have others enjoy my words, my feelings, my secrets written in a medium they can love and understand.

So why do I write? Because I love to. Because there is something intoxicating about the flow from mind to paper that creates a beautiful story. Because I love to read. Because it is a glimpse of a better life.

~Jacqueline
_________________

~DancingEponaTinuviel

daleluck1313 · Figment of a Figment Joined: 27 Jan 2007 Posts: 39

I write to give things life and emotions that I've felt very little of in my life. Happiness, just for example, would be shown through someone who get's happy easily and has a life of which they are proud of. Someone opposite to me, in fact.

Writing gives me a feeling of being in another world. When I write, I feel like I am my character (yes, even if it is a girl). It's also a hobby of mine and makes me get away from all of the problems of which I have had so many of recently.

You could say writing keeps my mind sane, no matter if my body isn't.

Writing let's me forget about the hazards (being near a mother who smokes most of the day is bound to give me cancer...) of life, the sadness, the heartbreak, the feelings of a normal person...

A life of perfectness, with no near death experiences, with a god that helps you all the way and makes sure you do not die, a god who loves you and a god who will protect you from most of the bad feelings of the world. An opposite life.

How do I do that? I don't write anything related to my life.

It thrashes away my senses and creates and imaginary world in my head, making my imagination span the length of the universe, counting the planets, the stars, the moons, the creatures, the happy people, the good things...

To summise what I've just said - writing lets me get away from everyone else.
_________________
A new day is here, Why do I not see,
The amazing sunset's astounding beauty?

marianas · The Scarlet Pimpernel Joined: 19 Feb 2007 Posts: 435

Why do I write?

I write because I read. I see stories and think "What if that happened like this?" "What would happen next?"

I write because I am unhappy. Or perhaps disillusioned is a better word. We're killing off our world. I don't know what my life means. Through words, I can make a better world. Or fix this one. Or get off it. I can have people do things that are important. I can fix broken things, live dreams, be brave.

I write because I want to feel. That's part of the reason I throw myself into books or movies ...and even music. They let me feel emotions with a strength I never experience in "real life." I write because if I turn those emotions into a poem or story I can feel them again and again. So I don't forget. So I know I'm still alive.

I write because I can't speak. I don't know how to make my mouth say what my brain thinks. My hands are easier to control, whether flying over keys or gripping a pencil so tightly it creates a callus. My hands can form a complete thought, or erase one that I couldn't finish, without leaving words hanging in air halfway through a sentence.

I write because I have to. I couldn't stop if I tried.
_________________
Altogether Too Unsophisticated To Deserve a Proper Postscript

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Aurora Asha Ila · Posted: Sat Mar 03, 2007 9:48 pm Post subject:

Writing for me, is a form of self exploration. Looking within myself for issues that affect me. That and sometimes i just cant find the right book to fit my feelings when i want to read.

I also write for others, or of others. Social interaction is a huge intrest of mine, and what puts meaning into peoples lives is my study.

For the Art of it. Art drives me nuts i swear. Im always in it. It's like soup and its all around me. I just pick out a pea here and a peice of carrot there.

I dont sleep much, and when i do i have dreams. Vivid ones. whenever i can i write them down afterwards. Then elaborate. Laughing

I know why i write. my question is, why do humans do what they do? why are they like they are and why do they all have massive delusional capabilities. Why do they write. Why do they Art. Why Why Why oh frikin Why do they cause so much destruction in their innocence?
_________________
I am sitting in my dingy little office, where a stingy
Ray of sunlight struggles feebly down between the houses tall,
And the foetid air and gritty of the dusty, dirty, city,
Through the open window floating, spreads its foulness over all.

Extract from Clancy and the Overflow, by A.B. Patterson.
Ironically he never actually went outside of a city his entire life, let alone Droving. phht. Henry Lawson was much more acurate, he didnt romanticise the Aussie bush.

Rainfallen · Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2007 12:14 pm Post subject:

Why do I write?

Is it because I love to read the written word? Because of the thousands of thresholds waiting to be crossed, the people and their own adventures bursting from every wall and crevice?

Could be.

Is it because once I'd started I haven't been able to stop long enough to get out of the habit? That I'm doomed, or destined, to go on to be a writer, an author? Is it a longing to become successful and accomplished, challenging myself with harder concepts and plots and characters, willing my pen to drench dozens of notebooks with half digested thoughts until I have time to sink my teeth into them farther?

Sounds about right.

But maybe it’s because my life, normal enough, has its own imprint to be left. Every single choice that I make through the day, whether it be picking out matching socks or mixed, walking the dog or drawing; every choice made has its own strand to be woven into this choppy tapestry of my life. And the uniqueness will show through my mind set, appearance, and most of all my writing. And maybe I write because I want my words to leave an imprint on the world.

But really I suppose that the point isn’t why I write. It’s that I do.
_________________
Walk
In the rain

Hawkins · Posted: Thu Jul 05, 2007 5:57 am Post subject:

Why I write...lemme think...

The first three years of my life, I wanted to be an artist, I didn't know of the newer ones, like Andrew Wyeth and David Hockney (although I really can't stand David Hockney, his art, his views on smoking, etc...) I only thought of Leonardo da Vinci, Vincint Van Gogh, etc...and I was thinking, "eh, they don't have those anymore...you can't be an artist now..." Yes, I knew a couple famous artists, but I didn't know you could still be one. Anyway...

Well, I still wrote, and that's why I wanted to be an artist, because a lot of my stories were just illustrations and I had my cousin write the words, then I decided since I couldn't be an artist, I could be a writer. And since I have such an imagination, because I use both halves of my brain (...?) the stories just came easy, and I always would play out stories in my mind, and then write them down.

Then in school I was told I had a gift for writing, and in 6th grade I was told I was well beyond the 12th grade language/writing curriculum, and...that was about it. Though I've never tried to get anything published, even though it probably isn't as hard or frustrating as I imagine it (me and the thought of publishing: Shocked

)

Anyway, that's it.
_________________

Tyler's on vacation...to CANADA...*sad*

butterflii · Posted: Thu Jul 05, 2007 11:26 am Post subject:

Why do I write? *feels obliged to write in italics*

Why do I write?

Why do I write? I write so that I can convey the serene ideas in my head, so I can find a way to explain to people just how I think. I write to show people the amazing things that I find myself, when exploring the unknown depths of my mind. I write to relieve the pressure that builds up inside me thinking of new ideas, I write to communicate.Well that's part of it.

I write because, I started to write once. If you're a writer, you'll understand. If you're not a writer, then try writing. You'll see what I mean. It's unstoppable. You try one poem, and you're an author for life. Writing grabs you, doesn't let you forget it, like a drug, you NEED to write.
But there's more.

I write because, I cannot stand some of the people around me, the boring places in which we see, the stupid colours and creatures we are forced to observe. When I write, I create characters you'll never think of, places you could never go, think of object no one has invented or ever will invent. And through writing I can show you a little slice of what I see. I can conjure up plants that'll never grow, cook foods that will never be eaten, mix colours that'll never be seen.

Besides, showing you my ideas, getting hitched and going into a fantasy world, I write because it makes me happy, it releases a little endorphin in me that makes me smile =]

_________________
Spider, Spider, on the wall.
Have you got no sense at all?
Can't you see the walls been plastered.
Now you're stuck you stupid . . . spider.