writing for no audience
here’s a thing about writing in general, you usually hope someone reads it, or you don’t.
depending on what you are writing, where you are writing it, and why you write, you might want someone to actually come and take a look, and because of the increasing ease of sharing media (written or otherwise) nowadays, you might think, as i did, that it is easier to write. there’s an incentive, there might be someone who likes what you write, either by expressing their feelings via a comment or a literal like, and you might find your work recognized and, you know, have your self actualization appreciated via retweets.
but what about writing for no audience, in the quiet moments before anyone reads it? you hear it everywhere, starting to write is the hardest part, offline or online. for starters, i don’t know how to document how i feel without visualizing someone else reading it. is this what it means when someone says black women’s and girl’s thoughts are surveilled even in their most intimate forms? i want to re learn writing journals, poems and stories without feeling the immense pressure and need for these thoughts to be coherent, to be good, to be anything at all. and wherever i go, writing in its best form is uninhibited and raw, something mine is yet to be outside my messy journal entries.
this need for my thoughts to be understood, even if there’s no one to explain them to, is maybe rooted in the need for my daily thoughts to be refined since the realization of my positionality in the url and irl world. the need to anticipate reactions from complete strangers added to the need of having my thoughts be rational even when being otherwise was normal and needed.
i guess writing for no future or perceived audience is to place one’s thoughts in a vacuum without repercussion and question, to allow one’s self to exist momentarily unsupervised, un-monitored and that very existence happens to be impossible for me, and it may remain so by my own choosing or otherwise. and i don’t think it’s a terrible way to live, but it’s different and it’s proving to be difficult to translate anything other than this feeling in my public writing about myself.