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As Jack Kerouac Once Said, “Words Have No Meaning”

As Jack Kerouac Once Said, “Words Have No Meaning”

April 6, 2002 (Sat)

Sometimes I forget why I love writing so much. It’s funny how much of a conundrum my love for writing has turned out to be. Bitching and moaning, lamenting lost love, crooning for that new special somebody, sharing insights into the rhymes and dissonance of life — that’s what it’s all about. But ever since the beginning, I’ve overthought every damn word I’ve written. There are times when I get so caught up in pretension and flowery words that even I can’t take my writing seriously. I tried keeping a writing journal, once. I figured that I’d be able to pump out a billion and half poems and short stories if I’d just commit to scribbling down my truest thoughts. To this day, there’s a lingering suspicion in my mind that I’ve been lying to myself in writing all this time.

Well, what the hell, I’m trying again. This is a journal, of sorts…albeit a very public one. But that doesn’t bother me very much since most of what I write ends up being read by somebody anyway. I’ll keep writing because I know there’s plenty more to say. I’ll keep writing until I’ve said it all the way that it was meant to be said.