don’t bogart that thought

August 6th, 2006

Seems like certain people are intent upon gobbling up the entire blog pie, so I should interject and steal myself a slice before that happens…

Just getting thoughts onto the page is pretty difficult because, as already mentioned to my friend Mr Burrage, my thoughts go so quickly, and by the time I even think about moving the pen/finger towards the page/keyboard, my brain is already onto the next topic (like a greedy thought-vulture) and has discarded the previous effort – been there, done that – writing it down can only render it a feeble shadow of the glorious transitory thoughtform that soared briefly through my brain (like a firework in the night, only a good one, not a crap one like a traffic light, or one of those catherine wheels that fall off the nail and spin around on the wet grass for a few seconds, and extinguish themselves to the eternal disappointment of a crowd of small children, for whom this is one of the earlier experiences of ‘god life is crap and never quite as exciting as advertised in your brain’) It’s like once I’ve thought it, the notion of writing it down seems redundant, and faintly ridiculous. The only way I can ever write anything is to have no preconceived notions of what I’m going to write, and shift my brain downa gear so that I think at the speed of pen rather than of light, or whatever speed thought travels at.

There’s just such a large part of me that always views any form of writing as a complete waste of time, but I have no idea why I feel that way because not writing is even more of a waste of time is it not? At least by throwing something out there I’m making an effort to communicate, to share something of myself, and how can I expect to really involve myself in life – appreciate it, change it or simply study it – without making a contribution of some sort that is recognisable to other humans?

There is very little point in a life spent sitting around thinking. Then again, I don’t know if that is true either. Maybe pure thought is the pinnacle we’re all reaching for, but hell, it feels wrong and as I clearly know nothing and can’t ever know anything, feeling is all I have to base my existence on at the end of the day.

I think at the heart, the real reason I can’t write what I think is that thoughts are in their essence too transitory and complicated for something as base as language. How to represent all the myriad impressions, connections, theories and biases that are inherent in just one simple thought? It’s laughable to ever hope to satisfactorily render that in this collection of chicken scratchings. I can’t write my thoughts because I know that I will fail to capture what I want to, and why start a venture when it’s failure is apparent from the outset. One benefit of writing that I can see just from writing this is that it forces you to think in a more controlled and structured way, about more focused issues, and thus perhaps gives you a better chance of coming to some kind of conclusion about something simply because you’re forced to focus the mind on one tiny pinprick of consciousness.

So I am stupid for even trying to, or wanting to capture my thoughts. I should write to try to capture, refine or examine themes or individual points, maybe connected to things I have been thinking about, but maybe on other topics entirely. Writing need not be a feeble relation to thought but a necessary focussing required to tune out the babbling of the brain. A tool of communication, not only to others but to oneself.