Thought Bubbles by Ruthie

I’ve been thinking recently about why I write blogs, why I write a diary, and why I enjoy writing so much. I’ve always enjoyed writing and used to say the classic ‘When I grow up I want to be a writer’. Obviously, at the age of 6, I probably meant writing fiction stories with pretty illustrations, rather than sarcastic political blog posts… But, writing is writing! I’m going to write about my personal experience and friendship with writing and consider different types of writing – diaries, letters, social media, essays, short messages. Perhaps it will encourage others to pick up a pen or a keyboard, who knows. Or selfishly, perhaps I’ll just enjoy writing about writing, and writing about the enjoyment of writing (and the enjoyment of writing about the the enjoyment of writing…ok, I’ll stop now).

Sometimes when I write, I’m surprised about what comes out of my hands. The same happens fairly often with my mouth – I say something and then think, where did that come from? But that feeling seems stronger when I write, it’s like a part of me is unearthed and opened up by the power of words. Words in the form of visible, tangible letters on a screen or sheet of paper. I find writing a refreshing thing to do, a way to order my thoughts and feelings in a way I don’t do anywhere else. My written voice and my spoken voice are different and how they make me feel are different too. Although the “Where did that come from?” after hearing myself speak is common, I often don’t stumble upon unearthed ground. I suppose I might if I talked to myself but I don’t do that much. Perhaps the reason writing unlocks thoughts and feelings is because it is slower, more reflective and if you want to continue for pages (even just for your own amusement) you can – you don’t have a listening ear getting bored and falling to sleep. Perhaps also it is because words can be written without a specific reader in mind, it can be far more general and anonymous, whereas a listening ear tends to be attached to a head which belongs to someone you know. My diary is written to nobody, it can be evaporated into midair for all I care. The process of writing itself is why I do it. It’s sometimes like trapped thoughts and words are opened up and freed.

Writing has an important place in the world, even if the words end up scrunched up in the bin. It is the process, not the finished piece that is often the most insightful, enjoyable and important part. And that scrunched up piece of paper may have helped you explore yourself or the world around you. Whilst writing my diary the other day, words were flowing out of my inky pen and I suddenly considered what I was writing about from a different angle. I just started to note something down and a page later I had found exactly what it was that was frustrating me. It was a little light bulb moment. But that piece of writing had no audience, was written for no real purpose and I had not talked about it to anyone. In my diary, there is no goal, no end point. On this blog, there is no specific goal, no end point. In fact, sometimes there is no point to writing. But that is exactly the point. Pointless writing can be the most poignant writing.

I wrote a pointless letter to a friend the other day (in the sense that it wasn’t for any particular reason and I didn’t really know what I was going to say). I just wrote and realised my thoughts were spilling out. And when I read it back I really wasn’t sure about it, I agonised over whether to write it again – well I did rewrite it a few times – and then I thought that actually there is something important in unfiltered writing. If I were to spend a few hours with said friend, my speaking would be pretty unfiltered. And as we are still living through a pandemic and unfiltered talking isn’t always possible, so I asked myself, why filter the letter? That’s what I always do on messages; write-read-send-delete if not quite right. Typing a Facebook message is different to holding an inky pen and writing a letter. Online messages are filtered to an extent, easier to deliberate about, erasable and treated with a sense of impermanence. Whereas a letter can be longer, more free flowing and somewhat permanent. It can be kept and reread in a way a Facebook message – an intangible object – can’t. And that permanence is something quite special. In a digital world, although we are told that we leave little digitalised footprints across the invisible web, we can delete things and never see them again. Yes, you can burn a letter or rip it into little pieces, but for those seconds it’s in your hands, it’s a real, tangible thing.

But that’s not to say that there is not value in digitalised writing, as there definitely is. I am not a letter-writing technophobe and have recently embraced social media and actually really enjoy it. It’s a different art form for using words. Writing a short tweet does not allow for the inner-thoughts exploration that writing with no end does. But it pushes you to think and pick out exactly what it is that you want to say. To try and get information, humor and tags into a limited space is sometimes a challenge. It is often the opposite of ‘pointless’ writing and can be intentionally pointed. And on the flip side of that, writing on social media can be, for some people, the freeing and exploratory ‘pointless writing’ experience I get from an inky pen.

As well as writing things without a point, I love formulating essays and blog posts with an intended purpose and audience. It’s sometimes like a jigsaw puzzle coming together, and other times like a collapsed tower which I have to carefully re-shape. Sometimes you know what the end puzzle or tower will look like, and other times you simply make it up as you go along. You make the words do a dance on the page, to take up new places or just to later return them to the original starting place. You construct something, word by word, and by the end have built a structure. It’s a different type of writing altogether but can be equally fulfilling and enjoyable.

The pleasure of writing does not have to come from paragraphs, blogs and essays. It could come from trying different fonts, copying the same text over and over, poems, raps, songs, cards, one liners, a tweet or a note. Writing doesn’t have to be about forming sentences and paragraphs, it can be the physical process of forming letters on a page. For example, copying text in different designs and styles can be fun and thought-provoking. This could be on paper or more abstractly, on public walls! Think back to the walls in school toilets or pub toilet walls, and about some of the words and messages there – they are often short and strange, but the person who wrote them may well have got something from it. And the reader too. I’m not suggesting that vandalism is good, my point is simply that there are many ways that writing is an outlet. That outlet might come from forming sentences in a diary or blog, writing letters or tweets, or copying message on paper or in public places.

When stripped right down, writing is simply about words put somewhere. And that has limitless boundaries. So, don’t feel limited, and explore. Perhaps your hands on your pen or keyboard will surprise you.