i saw it put by Dani Shapiro that writing is a way “to forge a path out of [our] own personal wilderness with words” - a way to both exercise and exorcise our most fundamental insecurities.
wilderness with words.
i do so often feel like there’s a wilderness inside of me.
i’ve been told that there’s infinity inside of me.
but that dredges up accossiations with order and some sort of straight and narrow organization, direction and clarity for some reason. but wilderness, wilderness is what i most often feel to be inside of my heart and head. endless mazes of trees and unnavigatable landscapes filled with my innermost thoughts that i so often cannot untangle from one another.
i cannot read or look at an article, book, magazine or movie, without logging away some sort of thought/idea/plan/sentiment i feel like i absolutely must remember and use at a later date. i feel so filled to the brim with the information i constantly, not only take in, but want to keep in. keep in until the right time to put it back out into the world in a new forum, inserted into this writing or that idea, or that creation, or that project or this conversation. i feel that my mind is always always always whirring and humming away. idea after idea scrolling across my frontal lobe, begging to not be forgotten, to be expanded upon, to be recorded, remembered, noted.
i do so best work things out in the written form.
and so, since there's a wilderness inside of me, i suppose it's okay to attempt it's navigation with words.
especially because i haven't found another outlet to be quite as helpful as this one.
at least not yet.
