I’m such a sentimental writer.
It’s a fact that I’ve been casually aware of since High School - I didn’t care about it much. I was a stubborn teen, and being angst-ridden, dramatic and verbose kind of came with the territory.
After reading my old Livejournal (from 2007-2008!) and then writing my previous post, I’ve come to realize that I actually haven’t shaken the sap out of my writing.
Yeah, I’m a sap; I also have a tendency to ramble on and on. It’s time to seriously discipline myself. Restraint is as much a part of writing as is honesty, and I want to be completely in control of that, if I want to fancy myself a good communicator.
When I posted on facebook that reading my old LJ “felt like having an awkward conversation with a stranger who knows everything about you,” my friend Jia shared this piece by Maria Popova. It’s on Joan Didion’s thoughts on keeping a notebook, and it’s a really good read.
“The impulse to write things down is a peculiarly compulsive one, inexplicable to those who do not share it, useful only accidentally, only secondarily, in the way that any compulsion tries to justify itself.
…The point of my keeping a notebook has never been, nor is it now, to have an accurate factual record of what I have been doing or thinking. That would be a different impulse entirely, an instinct for reality which I sometimes envy but do not possess.”
So there. This post actually has no real purpose other than to record this thought in time, on my being such a sentimental. I’ve no idea if I actually have a resolution for this in mind, or how to end it, even.