What the hell. I’m starting to write.
I’ve never been good at this starting-to-write thing. Once I get going, things end up getting a bit smoother. But, I’m the neurotic type; I start a notebook, and I strive for the perfect first sentence in it. It’s a ritual, and I’ve had times where the same one notebook would sit in front of me for a year or more, waiting for me to write my first sentence or draw my first picture in it. The same pattern is there when I start writing online. I wait…and wait…and wait.
I put so much pressure on myself to find that “one true sentence” that Hemingway mentioned back in the day. You know, the one that you’re supposed to use when you start writing. Well, I guess my first problem is that I don’t really believe in the existence of a single truth. For too long, I’ve seen that the truth is subjective and exists only in the eyes or the person experiencing it.
If I were to come up with a true sentence, I guess it would be “the truth is subjective.” I have no problem with this sentence, but it’s not all that interesting. The next option I’d consider always puts me into an existential crisis, so I’m steering clear of it for the time-being.
At the most macro-level, I’ll be writing to share my search for truth — albeit my subjective version of it. I’ll write about how I attempt to make sense of the work that I do and the things that I care about. Some weeks, I’ll probably write more about work, and other weeks, I may write more about my family. Let’s see where this thing goes.