The idea of that there are infinite ways I can express a particular thought of mine, and how through a single form I could cross into new territories of insight. Yet by doing so, I inevitably miss out on all the other perceptions I would've gained from all the other ways. Sort of like the butterfly effect, how critical was this particular insight in forming the I standing today, and how different would I be had I followed another path ? A bit philosopical, but how much of my own life is under my control ? My future? My destiny ? My fate ?
In the majestic scheme of things, it falls on the thought of mind of the user on which outweighs which, and henceforth, the actions follow – do or not do, speak or not speak. This complete contrasting is what makes our world an exhilarating place to live in, and what makes the truth seem so alluring. Is it within our grasp, or just beyond the reach of our intellectual abilities? Is this what limits us?
As one dives deeper into icy oceans seeking the truth, he realizes how little he is compared to the world. Perhaps even then, that is the only segment of the truth that we can touch, the star in the endless darkness of the universe. The thought is overwhelming, with enough to extinguish the fire of the mind to a single flicker on a candle wick, a tiny light, a tiny star. The truth in us, and us in truth.
Somedays I would get so dazed by thoughts and ideas, I would feel them fleeting away from the grip of my hands, drifting away by the gentlest breeze like the tiny specks of dust. Will I get to them faster, if they were snow in the air? I every so often pray that time would momentarily pause, allowing me to put an end to the misery I sense. I am losing shards of me, and I desperately want to collect them all, speck by speck, snowflake by snowflake.
If I can never count the stars I see in a clear nightly scene in the film of my life, I can only fathom the ones far away, engulfed by the darkness of the cosmos. I can only wonder about the secrets they hold, and the stories they have. I sometimes would want to shed as many tears as the number of stars to find the number of ways my life could’ve unfolded, and how different the I standing here would be. I would want them to form rivers that flow down each path, to tell me about the wonders and beasts they encounter. Is that why we always ask for guidance from God in whatever we do?
I can follow a snowflake drifting higher and higher to the ghastly heavens up above, a part of my soul, further and further – waiting to be discovered. My heart quenches harder, is that why we cannot stay on earth longer?
But alas, just like how the perfect sunset won’t remain forever, and just like how the moon never stays full, and the roses never stay fresh, I’ve learnt to watch them float with melancholy, away and away. That perfect moment is nothing but a fleeting second from a chapter of a life in a period of time, come by and come go, special to me, nothing to the universe. Untouchable and distant, all I could do is watch this scene from my cold window, and breathe out warm air, all I could do is observe the little snowflakes that decorate my glass and contemplate their merry shapes. That is earthly life… little doses of happiness, little knowledge, hard to swallow with our greed – but just enough for our incomplete bodily senses and imperfect intellect.
Therefore, with our limitations, we join hands in attempts to see through each other’s windows, their snowflakes. They remain as imaginations, alone and limited by language, but they still kindle a perspective and keep our candles burning longer. It is just like how each tiny snowflake melts by warm breath to form drops of rain, meeting the fertile soil to blossom flowers, to bring about a spring day.
Is that why humans were created in pairs, and God is one?
And yet, our spring always ends.
Its all these limitations, uncertainties and inaccuracies, partial lies and partial truths, incomplete facts and incomplete opinions, incomplete thoughts, incomplete ideas, incomplete suffocation…incomplete beings, what I find to be agonizing about writing.
But it is ironically also why I write. I want to reach the limits of uncertainty, gaze at the border of perfection. Communicate, connect with people. Help myself out of isolation. Destroy these shackles that hold me back from communicating my thoughts as clearly as a bright day, and from understanding the world around me.
I hate the fact I can no longer write raps and poems. I used to be so good at them, and now I cant write out a single line without sitting for an hour. :(
I think it's about expressing yourself through your writing. In, let's say, an informative post, how can you get the real you, your personality, to shine through?
That although I am able to compose an interesting narrative in my mind, when I pen it down, it's not half as good. Also, I feel that slight exaggeration is necessary to make your write ups convincing and to keep the reader hooked. But I feel bad, guilty when I exaggerate even a little. I want to be very honest, but then I fear I sound bland. Then I don't write at all.
The only thing I would rather not experience in writing is the impatience I feel to get it out. Especially when I feel like I have a good contribution. I am too new to sweat whether I have a lot of views, or penetration. My goal is to communicate what is on my heart, to be able to put the reader as closely as possible, into the feeling, conviction, and reality of where I write from. Honestly, your article on the dragon put me over the "hold up" I had keeping me from writing, despite writing being one of my 1st dreams to do when I grew up, so thank you again for that. Now, I just want to be genuine, and impactful.
What i hate most about is editing and actually what i hate is re-reading what I ve written. It is an emotional process, it is big pain, even i am in technical, which doen t require (in my opinion) big writing skills. For me, It is a painfull process.
Getting my writing out there. I love writing but marketing is such a pain. Without marketing, the writing can go undiscovered. I want to write, not spend time on social media although I do have a Twitter account and a weekly Substack newsletter and I write on Medium, so as well as entering writing competitions and writing a novel, I don't have any time to do other things that don't involve writing. I could (and sometimes do) write all day, every day if I could, but there is no point creating all those beautiful words if you can't share them. Medium has been amazing in this respect. I will just keep on writing, because I love it so much. I also have a job that pays my bills to fit into my busy schedule too.
Right, thanks :) Another problem is making your writing stand out, showing people a new way to think, making them remember you. Why is it so hard? How do you do that? With time, practice and consistency? Or should you just write what you want and not be concerned with fame and feedback?
Good afternoom gentle men i tried writing you all a short story lastnight but instead i was horrible short story so to express what talents i have and lack to become an excellent writer but after dinner time tonight i will write a short story to show you what i lack in the ways of writing
I live and lead and teach righteously and my purpose is everything that is a pure evil human or entity and i am what hunts those that run from their own hidden truths with the dark deeds they hide and in a closet along with the skeletons they hide in fear off anyone knowing we do not have any of that which it is why we enjoy giving them back the pain they bestowed on others and this is what we call fun knowing that whoever we catch fears god or the devil anx no retaliation comes from Murdering demonic people and they become the training for how we teach and lead kill or be killed is the Way of this Coldblood world(You should try it Sean the feeling of that Bloodthirsty feeling knowing it for doing what is right so others can live there lifes safely without fear and if i am that Black Dragon but i am the purpose and the solution because the Government will let them live to commit the same exact evil sin we will not and that is faxtz.And i have no pain because emotions are pain that we do not use or have when hunting enemys now you lknow ypur answer
Trying to edit and "trim down" posts and answers (mostly on Quora). I tend to use 20 words when 5 will do! It almost reads like I'm rambling on some of my posts, but in my mind I've trimmed them down as much as possible. If you want an example:
Call me an outsider, but I was instructed to purchase the AP's 2022-2024 Stylebook for a professional writing gig that didn't pan out (and I learned my lesson: if I'm ever gonna professionally write, I'm going to have to strike out on my own). It has to be one of the most arrogant and annoying conceits I can think of.
First of all, who gave the AP any authority on what the bounds of "appropriate language" are? Where does any professional organization get off declaring itself the arbiter of language standards, none of which were established by institutions like the AP?
The idea that I'm "violating" some sacred standard - which changes every two years, by the way, and I have no clue why - is utterly repugnant to me. The way writing goes with me is that no one tells me what I can and can't say. And you should feel the same.
I am lazy. I have lot of things in my mind , sometimes a great advice or awesome thouguht but to put it on text i might require a voice key board or think keyboard(it texts down whatever you are thinking based on electric pulses in your brain) just that and nothing else.
Firstly, striking the first letter on the keyboard. I always wondering that something inside my head on what will be the first letter or the first word to start my writting. Sometimes, there were too much self talks going on inside of my head. It seems delaying my thought that can be transfered to keyboard.
The idea of that there are infinite ways I can express a particular thought of mine, and how through a single form I could cross into new territories of insight. Yet by doing so, I inevitably miss out on all the other perceptions I would've gained from all the other ways. Sort of like the butterfly effect, how critical was this particular insight in forming the I standing today, and how different would I be had I followed another path ? A bit philosopical, but how much of my own life is under my control ? My future? My destiny ? My fate ?
In the majestic scheme of things, it falls on the thought of mind of the user on which outweighs which, and henceforth, the actions follow – do or not do, speak or not speak. This complete contrasting is what makes our world an exhilarating place to live in, and what makes the truth seem so alluring. Is it within our grasp, or just beyond the reach of our intellectual abilities? Is this what limits us?
As one dives deeper into icy oceans seeking the truth, he realizes how little he is compared to the world. Perhaps even then, that is the only segment of the truth that we can touch, the star in the endless darkness of the universe. The thought is overwhelming, with enough to extinguish the fire of the mind to a single flicker on a candle wick, a tiny light, a tiny star. The truth in us, and us in truth.
Somedays I would get so dazed by thoughts and ideas, I would feel them fleeting away from the grip of my hands, drifting away by the gentlest breeze like the tiny specks of dust. Will I get to them faster, if they were snow in the air? I every so often pray that time would momentarily pause, allowing me to put an end to the misery I sense. I am losing shards of me, and I desperately want to collect them all, speck by speck, snowflake by snowflake.
If I can never count the stars I see in a clear nightly scene in the film of my life, I can only fathom the ones far away, engulfed by the darkness of the cosmos. I can only wonder about the secrets they hold, and the stories they have. I sometimes would want to shed as many tears as the number of stars to find the number of ways my life could’ve unfolded, and how different the I standing here would be. I would want them to form rivers that flow down each path, to tell me about the wonders and beasts they encounter. Is that why we always ask for guidance from God in whatever we do?
I can follow a snowflake drifting higher and higher to the ghastly heavens up above, a part of my soul, further and further – waiting to be discovered. My heart quenches harder, is that why we cannot stay on earth longer?
But alas, just like how the perfect sunset won’t remain forever, and just like how the moon never stays full, and the roses never stay fresh, I’ve learnt to watch them float with melancholy, away and away. That perfect moment is nothing but a fleeting second from a chapter of a life in a period of time, come by and come go, special to me, nothing to the universe. Untouchable and distant, all I could do is watch this scene from my cold window, and breathe out warm air, all I could do is observe the little snowflakes that decorate my glass and contemplate their merry shapes. That is earthly life… little doses of happiness, little knowledge, hard to swallow with our greed – but just enough for our incomplete bodily senses and imperfect intellect.
Therefore, with our limitations, we join hands in attempts to see through each other’s windows, their snowflakes. They remain as imaginations, alone and limited by language, but they still kindle a perspective and keep our candles burning longer. It is just like how each tiny snowflake melts by warm breath to form drops of rain, meeting the fertile soil to blossom flowers, to bring about a spring day.
Is that why humans were created in pairs, and God is one?
And yet, our spring always ends.
Its all these limitations, uncertainties and inaccuracies, partial lies and partial truths, incomplete facts and incomplete opinions, incomplete thoughts, incomplete ideas, incomplete suffocation…incomplete beings, what I find to be agonizing about writing.
But it is ironically also why I write. I want to reach the limits of uncertainty, gaze at the border of perfection. Communicate, connect with people. Help myself out of isolation. Destroy these shackles that hold me back from communicating my thoughts as clearly as a bright day, and from understanding the world around me.
I dream, explore and discover.
The thing I hate most about writing is feeling that my writing isn’t good enough.
I hate the fact I can no longer write raps and poems. I used to be so good at them, and now I cant write out a single line without sitting for an hour. :(
I think it's about expressing yourself through your writing. In, let's say, an informative post, how can you get the real you, your personality, to shine through?
I don’t know proper grammar and punctuation I’m not sure how or where to learn
That although I am able to compose an interesting narrative in my mind, when I pen it down, it's not half as good. Also, I feel that slight exaggeration is necessary to make your write ups convincing and to keep the reader hooked. But I feel bad, guilty when I exaggerate even a little. I want to be very honest, but then I fear I sound bland. Then I don't write at all.
The only thing I would rather not experience in writing is the impatience I feel to get it out. Especially when I feel like I have a good contribution. I am too new to sweat whether I have a lot of views, or penetration. My goal is to communicate what is on my heart, to be able to put the reader as closely as possible, into the feeling, conviction, and reality of where I write from. Honestly, your article on the dragon put me over the "hold up" I had keeping me from writing, despite writing being one of my 1st dreams to do when I grew up, so thank you again for that. Now, I just want to be genuine, and impactful.
What i hate most about is editing and actually what i hate is re-reading what I ve written. It is an emotional process, it is big pain, even i am in technical, which doen t require (in my opinion) big writing skills. For me, It is a painfull process.
Sentence formation and words is what I find difficult. Plus how to write an attractive post?
Getting my writing out there. I love writing but marketing is such a pain. Without marketing, the writing can go undiscovered. I want to write, not spend time on social media although I do have a Twitter account and a weekly Substack newsletter and I write on Medium, so as well as entering writing competitions and writing a novel, I don't have any time to do other things that don't involve writing. I could (and sometimes do) write all day, every day if I could, but there is no point creating all those beautiful words if you can't share them. Medium has been amazing in this respect. I will just keep on writing, because I love it so much. I also have a job that pays my bills to fit into my busy schedule too.
Nothing yet everything.
Right, thanks :) Another problem is making your writing stand out, showing people a new way to think, making them remember you. Why is it so hard? How do you do that? With time, practice and consistency? Or should you just write what you want and not be concerned with fame and feedback?
My pain point in writing is expressing my thoughts and making it concise. It's so hard to not write fluffy fluff!
Good afternoom gentle men i tried writing you all a short story lastnight but instead i was horrible short story so to express what talents i have and lack to become an excellent writer but after dinner time tonight i will write a short story to show you what i lack in the ways of writing
I live and lead and teach righteously and my purpose is everything that is a pure evil human or entity and i am what hunts those that run from their own hidden truths with the dark deeds they hide and in a closet along with the skeletons they hide in fear off anyone knowing we do not have any of that which it is why we enjoy giving them back the pain they bestowed on others and this is what we call fun knowing that whoever we catch fears god or the devil anx no retaliation comes from Murdering demonic people and they become the training for how we teach and lead kill or be killed is the Way of this Coldblood world(You should try it Sean the feeling of that Bloodthirsty feeling knowing it for doing what is right so others can live there lifes safely without fear and if i am that Black Dragon but i am the purpose and the solution because the Government will let them live to commit the same exact evil sin we will not and that is faxtz.And i have no pain because emotions are pain that we do not use or have when hunting enemys now you lknow ypur answer
Trying to edit and "trim down" posts and answers (mostly on Quora). I tend to use 20 words when 5 will do! It almost reads like I'm rambling on some of my posts, but in my mind I've trimmed them down as much as possible. If you want an example:
https://www.quora.com/Who-are-the-most-evil-humans-in-history-that-most-people-have-never-heard-of/answer/Bama-Bob?ch=17&oid=1477743704201017&share=68b857da&srid=h2QjU&target_type=answer
People giving you rules!
Call me an outsider, but I was instructed to purchase the AP's 2022-2024 Stylebook for a professional writing gig that didn't pan out (and I learned my lesson: if I'm ever gonna professionally write, I'm going to have to strike out on my own). It has to be one of the most arrogant and annoying conceits I can think of.
First of all, who gave the AP any authority on what the bounds of "appropriate language" are? Where does any professional organization get off declaring itself the arbiter of language standards, none of which were established by institutions like the AP?
The idea that I'm "violating" some sacred standard - which changes every two years, by the way, and I have no clue why - is utterly repugnant to me. The way writing goes with me is that no one tells me what I can and can't say. And you should feel the same.
I am lazy. I have lot of things in my mind , sometimes a great advice or awesome thouguht but to put it on text i might require a voice key board or think keyboard(it texts down whatever you are thinking based on electric pulses in your brain) just that and nothing else.
Firstly, striking the first letter on the keyboard. I always wondering that something inside my head on what will be the first letter or the first word to start my writting. Sometimes, there were too much self talks going on inside of my head. It seems delaying my thought that can be transfered to keyboard.
Thank you for the affirmation, I do know what I am. This was very enlightening
What Oscar Madison said, I hate to write, but I love to have written..
Apr 29.2020
I have a 4 month old blog and my niche is happiness, productivity and self growth, which is abstract.
People talk too much about importance of key word research.
But I want to write around the topics related to my niche and around keywords which are natural to my topics.
Do I stand any chance of attracting organic traffic?