I miss being able to write.
Once upon a time, I had the ability to string together beautifully coherent sentences. I constantly recieved praise from my teachers, who supported my talent and continued to encourage me to write.
And now? Now, my language is sloppy, my vocabulary is below-par and my syntax is lacking the extra sophisticated push which allows my writing to become something special.
I blame the internet. Of course, this is hardly fair on the internet, as it really gets blamed for everything these days. So okay, perhaps I should accept that it’s my fault. I’m not really sure if I lost interest in writing, or if I become too involved with the web that it consumed all my time. Or maybe I just lost inspiration…which once again, comes down to me focusing my free time on scanning through dull, pointless websites, rather than snuggling down in bed with a cup of tea and an excellent book.
Books gave me constant inspiration, especially ones that had such intricate, unusual language. The types on novels that you could lose yourself in - although, not just in the story, but also in the writing. The two are closely linked, but sometimes excellent stories aren’t supported by great language. The ones that are…well, they’re the ones that I find truly inspire me. The ones where I just suddenly pause and think, “Holy shit. That paragraph/sentence was so incredible.”
My goal for this year was to read again. I used to read endless amounts of books when I was younger, but suddenly I stopped. So, I’ve compiled a list of novels that I plan on reading this year. May has almost arrived and I’ve only managed to read about five of these books, out of a list of approximately thirty.
The thing is, I know I need to read them. Apart from inspiring me, they also provide me with a more sophisticated vobulary, something which is very essential in the competitive nature which is VCE. Two of my subject require a highly intelligent degree of skill in writing, and if I hope to achieve an ATAR of 95 or so, I need the language skills to back me up.
I don’t know why I’m writing this…I guess I just need to write. I miss writing and I miss being inspired. I wish I had more time to read; I finally feel this year that I’m falling in love with books again… but alas, year 12 consumes so much of my time, that when I do have free time, I waste it away on the computer.
I suppose, ultimately, this is a reminder to myself that I need to read…that deep down, I want to read, that I prefer reading to mindlessly wasting my time on the mind-numbingly repetitive and dull nature of the internet…or that I just need to write more.
Read. Write. I can do that.
x
