The greatest struggle for me when writing is allowing myself to be vulnerable – on record. I have never denied who I am or how I feel, but I usually do so exclusively via my articulated voice. There is something ominous and definite about putting my inner thoughts into words. I fear future repercussion or over-exposure to my infant thoughts.
But, why do we write? Why do I want to write? I want to communicate what I am really thinking, but not another speech and debate case analyzing mundane facts. I want to invite the world into my personal experience. We can write to discuss, but perhaps the greatest strength of human intellect is the ability to understand perspective and context. If we truly get wiser with age because of more experience, then why can’t we experience more via the writing of others?
I genuinely believe more can be learned from a honest, short anecdote about a meaningful moment – good or bad – than the first 100 pages of any textbook. Human progress is built upon experiences, and if writers are more honest about their experiences (from before said event through initial responses and all the way through longterm reflection) then we all become better audience members to the greatest story of all: life.
I do not have one example of writing that I consider perfect or want to emulate; I have more of a genre. I never thought I’d submit this for academic purpose, but the “Confession Blogs” on Tumblr are what I believe to be some of the greatest pieces of literature.
No, I do not have a Tumblr nor do I spend enormous periods of time on it. I do, however, genuinely appreciate and admire confession blogs. I like the raw, honest emotion conveyed on short recalls of experiences. The information provided is not redundant nor does it circumvent the truth. The confession blogs are infinite loops of wit, insecurity, embarrassment, and voice tangled together with constant changes. Better yet, they are seemingly masked by internet anonymity, yet re-humanized with occasional images accompanying the stories.
The construction of the pieces are conversational. It’s almost fun to attempt a voice of the unknown writer in your head. Is it a he? she? How old are they? The pieces are short. The words are chosen wisely to convey the experience emotionally. You can sense the reader’s embarrassed red face or half grin behind the joke. Yet, you know very little about the writer. They do not introduce themselves. They do not give you pages to read. The usually give you a few paragraphs, and we accept that has a full, meaningful human experience. They break the rules. And. they. do. it. all. the. time. Did your brain chop up the past sentence? The confession bloggers know how to let you in their heads to know exactly what’s going on.
A blog post is a peak into the world through a pair of unfamiliar eyes, but a more than familiar mind.