New beginnings

In deciding to start publishing writing again, I ask myself the question to what purpose? And the answer is not difficult, nor lengthy. It is to hold myself accountable to the ideas, the creativity, the means of working that publishing work gives you that writing in private does not.

Unlike previous examples, I do not expect a readership, nor do I hope for one. I instead wish to write for the sake of writing. To think for the sake of thinking. And to express myself in a creative endeavour of which I can do, with ease, on the road. It is that which has been so difficult for me to do. Having been on the road for as long as I can remember now. Life is the road, and despite urges to settle, I continue to do so, not having found exactly what I am looking for. Yet I still have the need to do something.

And I do a lot of thinking, a lot of growing, a lot of a lot. Yet I keep it to myself, save for passing conversations with acquaintances and friends, both new and old. And it’s those conversations that provide me with such joy, that it is a shame to limit them to myself. Though again, I expect very little in return for this effort. Nothing in fact. Because while I will give you the means to contact me, I cannot promise that I will reply. Much in the way that “you” is likely no one and I am screaming into the digital void nonsense that means very little at the moment. If this sounds self-defeating, one could argue that it is realism. What exactly is the difference between pessimism and optimism?

Self-defeating, preventing rather than achieving a desired result

Realism, the attitude or practice of accepting a situation as it is and being prepared to deal with it accordingly

Both can be true. You may hope for one result, but understand the likelihood of that outcome is of low probability. You can accept this, and plan as such. Both lack optimism.

The modern blogger, hellbent on monetisation, would believe that they can always find a readership. That they would optimise everything for that very case. Sometimes forgetting why they’re writing in the first place, in the hope that someone will listen. I’ve been there, often trying to think about what would be interesting to read, less write about. This time I ask myself, what would I like to write about. Or rather, what I am conscious about in this very instant that is worth exploring beyond the pages of my daily journal. What ideas deserve to be given more flesh, and see the light of day, which might spark additional ideas in the future? The aim then, is not to find a readership or monetise the writing, but to explore these ideas, both good and bad, to see which develop further beyond a single piece of writing, and which die a lonely death, never to be read again. Who’s reading them? Myself of course, the author and idea DJ. Mixing my ideas, words and thought together, over and over again until perhaps I end up with something far greater than any individual piece. Who knows what that may be, but it may just be brief moments of joy for myself because I spent the time on it and can look back, proud, to see how far I’ve come. Which I am immensely proud of already. You should see what I was writing about when I started way back when.

Having said all this, I ask myself if it was truly necessary to write this down as I have. In such a long winded way in order to claim that I will write for writings sake, and for no readership. And I believe it is, because the substance of the piece is not within that claim. It is in the idea that we can do something purely for the joy of doing it. That you don’t have to get good at the thing. That you don’t have to make every endeavour a potential transaction. That there was a certain romance that I know a lot of people hold towards the internet of old, which was this chaotic playground of doing things because it was new and shiny and because we simply could. And with a tattoo to remind me to be more playful, it is this that I aspire to more than anything else. An opportunity to play with my ideas with the creative constraint of a blog. An opportunity to rekindle the nostalgia for stupidly late night computer sessions, making something more than just for myself, but regardless of any outcome. To do for doing’s sake.

What is joy if it is not the unbridled desire to do the thing because of where it takes you, how it makes you feel. Who it makes you?

Isn’t that why we do anything? Because it says something about us. Because it tells the world “this is who I am, this is what I am about”. And to derive joy from it is of the utmost importance.

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