I used to write. 10/15 '14
I used to write. I used to call myself a poet. I wrote in my journal often. I still have the stacks of them in a filing cabinet and still have the habit of keeping paper on me. But then... I don't know. I got into tech, I graduated college, I just lost the habit. I don't think my brain works the same way anymore. I say this as a psychology graduate too. I don't know how I feel about this. I'd say that if it bothered me that much that I'd work at getting back into the habit, but I don't know that it *does* bother me that much.
This online medium... I don't dislike it, but it is not the same as putting the pen to paper and that's part of why I say my brain doesn't work the same way. Typing is a much different tactile experience. Knowing on a keyboard the letter to touch when, for the most part they all feel the same, excepting the differences in muscle memory. Writing on paper is more sensory. I feel sorry for the kids who are growing up now that have always known computers and touch screens.
I mourn my old brain.
I wrote a decent poem online recently. I was surprised. I didn't know I could do that.
Since I stopped writing a weekly sonnet in a notebook my handwriting has almost completely atrophied.
I am a little surprised by how much I DO enjoy writing online. Even when it's not a social thing - something purely for me - I still want it to be online. Somewhere along the way I found that I feared what might happen to the paper. It could get lost. It could get wet. (I've a few old written things that did, the ink completely bled, and now they are illegible.) It could burn in a fire.
But online? That's likely to be there - in some form or another. One service or site dies? I can transfer things to another site or location. It's funny - the fleetingness that is the Internet is also somehow more secure/permanent to me.