The Paradox of a Writer
A reflective dive into the paradoxical nature of writing and the enigmatic identity of a writer. It explores the dualities—liberation and confinement, clarity and ambiguity—that define the craft and those who pursue it.
11/20/20241 min read
Writing, writing is therapeutic yet hectic. It can be liberating but suffocating. It can give your thoughts wings and still not let you express any of it. It can lend an excited skip to your walk or helps a sinking feeling settle in the chest.
Writer, writer is the epitome of magician of words. Often synonymously called a wordsmith. Usually associated with grief and sorrow, pain and anger, heartbreak and loss or some inexplicable wretchedness. Truth is writers romanticize, they fantasize every little emotion, every small detail to the point they can make it look magnanimous and magnificent. You ask why? Because it helps them articulate what they can't say. They get to channel and vent an energy they no longer want to harbour.
What makes a person a writer? The ability to pen down things or articulate emotions that sound intelligent and hard hitting which impresses everyone else but themselves. It is ironic that writers can be narcissistic yet highly self critical, they fill pages talking about themselves but don't like a single word of it. Possibly a projection of self loathe disguised in mysticism.
Why am I writer? Well I was tired of my thoughts so I decided to type them down until it became second nature. Today, I write everything and nothing. Thus, I am reliable yet may come across as incomprehensible. I am specific yet ambiguous. I am disciplined yet open to creativity. I have process yet flexibility. I am a writer yet don't know how to write. I write everything yet I don't.