On Beginnings

I spend a lot of time thinking before I write something down. I need the perfect words, the most precise snippet of language in order to begin anything. And that is a flaw.

You see, I view my writing as a reflection of myself - my "talent", my personality, my worth... It's all I am. So to begin something on an uncalculated step seems relatively pitiable to me. Like I'm giving up. For me, long-winded sentences with grandiose language and grating wannabe-opulence is beauty. It's light. It provides me with a reason to think and try harder.

I don't claim to need "inspiration". I need to feel like I won't fail at "correctly" (whatever that means) representing myself. That's why I write too many poems that mean nothing on the side. That's why I cherish those poems - because they're something made from nothing. Something that takes more character than I have. 

Someone who is told they are constantly "wrong" (whatever that means) will not have as much courage to carry on and write and rewrite the same thing, even when they're told to do so, as someone favored by the masses. I'm not complaining, I'm stating a fact. As someone in a perpetual state of fear at the prospect of being wrong, I suppose anything but the attempts to be true to oneself is in my peripheral view.