Note to self(s)

I feel as if I’ve lost touch with a part of myself. The creative writer in me is becoming evermore elusive.

I have called myself a writer for a long time, I still continue to do so. However the issue I face at the moment is knowing what it actually means to be a writer.

I am a person who is able to string words together to make a sentence, some more impressive and profound than others, does that make me a writer? No, I don’t believe so. I write a blog, does that make me a writer? I don’t think that’s the case either. I’m studying a degree that is submerged fully in the written world. What about that, does that mean I am a writer? I’m doubtful.

It’s a difficult one for sure.

To me, being a writer, as in a truly successful writer, is about emotion. If you write something that elicits emotion, any emotion, from a reader, then you’ve achieved what you set out to do. You’ve made a connection with them, made them feel something, therefore you’ve reached your goal as a writer.

Long gone are the days when I would sit and write something deep, creative, poetic even. Due to my day to day tasks and activities, my writing has become much more realistic and analytical. This is not necessarily the way I want it to be.

I sincerely miss sitting and scribbling in a notebook, not knowing yet what it is that I’m creating, in which direction it will go. The twists and turns of a new story.

I am currently on many different journeys in my life, so what’s the harm in beginning one more? I shall embark on a new journey; one to become reacquainted with my creative self. After all, it is that self that lead me down this path, and I feel that I owe it more than to be so neglectful.

I have always been a person who prides myself on my love of the written word; not a news story, not a report, but words in their purest and most magical form. It’s time I got back to that I think.

I have not seen my creative self in quite some time, but I’m hopeful that after a while we will be reunited, as if we never parted.