Writing is a bitch. Or is it me?

A case of uncontrollable unintentional writing that has nothing to do with what I want to write.

Photo by Ryan Snaadt on Unsplash

When I am reading something, I find myself in someone else's head. They have created another world for me to travel to without leaving my house, or without me having to create anything. In my eyes, these stories (or teachings) are another adventure. 

I consider myself adventurous (mentally and physically, not so much socially). The kind that even when I get lost in the woods, I am also lost in my head (perhaps creating a movie about me running from a dinosaur, or from some sort of fourth dimensional monster). 

As I write these lines, I am channeling inspiration from someone else’s writing. Whoever that is, wherever that story comes from, or whatever new doors these will open for me is irrelevant. If it wasn't for that person's story or essay- I wouldn't have been writing this.

On the other hand, when I sit down to write, with the intention to write, about the "serious" things I keep telling myself (and everybody else) that I want to really write, I blank out. As in I am having a total mind fuck - because I can't seem to find whatever it is that I want to type. But when I have no intention to write, guess what? Writing flows from my head into my hands and onto a document like a dog to a whistle. And I salivate for the bitch.

Photo by Maria Vlasova on Unsplash

This writing is an example. I had no intention of writing it. I was reading a book (about the history of fitness in the US) and this just came up; totally unrelated. I am writing while still in my bed early in the morning when I normally do my reading. I didn't want to or planned to, but here it is. Surprise bitch! Spontaneous - like the crackhead who appears by you at the traffic light, after you “made sure" to check that no crackhead was around. This always happens when I'm learning or reading an engaging story. Never when I wan to write. 

Sometimes I feel like writing is a power that I haven't learned how to tap into and control just yet. It is wild and untamed; with its own attitudes and demands. A self-thinking and sentient capacity, if you will, that uses me to come out and say what it wants. Do I want to tame and control this power? I don't know! All I'm saying here is that writing is a bitch. Although on second thought, maybe I am Writing’s bitch. And I like it!

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