This blog is me. The songs are songs I listen to. The jokes are jokes that amuses me. All that I write comes from inside me. And if I post what other's write it is because what they write moves me. I may not necessarily agree with what they write but reading what they write had enriched my understanding of things and I wanted to share them with you.
Sometimes in my moments alone I randomly choose a posting I did many many moons ago. I read about what I write on Anwar, on Mahathir, on Pak Lah, on Najib and many others and as I read what I write I see myself at that moment of writing. Let me share the “creative process” of writing as I experience it today….and I use the word “creative process” rather loosely so please don’t any of you accuse me of being a snob!
At 5 pm this evening I told myself I must sit down and write – not for you but for myself because I was beginning to lose confidence in my ability to write something….anything!
It is now 8.12 pm and I just posted “Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by stupidity”. So it took me over three hours to complete that posting. I say “complete” because days before I have scribble my thoughts as they come into my head on pieces of paper, in my diary and some in my PC. These are random thoughts that occurred to me. As I read through them I remembered jotting down the title of that piece in my diary. So I decided that that would be the title of the posting.
Once I have the title it is just a matter of putting all those random scribblings together to form a coherent form that vaguely resemble the heading. At some moment in time as I am doing all this I will feel everything coming together. That moment will define the posting. Once everything clicks into place then I know it is just a matter of tidying things up and making the final adjustments before posting it on my blog.
If truth be told I really did not feel that “oomph” about this article but it was the best I can do after many days of writing inactivity. This was a self imposed task I set myself before I become too lazy mentally and sink into a comfortable but unproductive plateau of thoughts that goes east and west, north and south but will never see print because at my age the ability to keep these thoughts in my head can no longer be depended upon. If I do not write it straight away…it goes AWOL. So even in sleep I have pencil and paper beside me just in case I want to jot something down.
My wife and I routinely argue about what day any day is. Monday or Tuesday? August or September? Not at all embarrass about our inability to remember them but genuinely trying to ascertain what day or month it is at that point of time Ahhhh old age. Why do any of us grow older if not to get wiser.