I Attempt to be as Forthright as Possible with my Ideas

One should write. Now and then I am struck with ideas I find to be either some degree of profound or worth remembering and preserving for future revisitation and reconsideration. Ideal is to hold on to the thought, and to then grow beyond this understanding.. The reality is that they are unrecorded. The momentary ideas vary: some are those which stay with me or which come to me again, and become a part of the structure I draw for myself, but most of it – not only the epiphanies and revelations, but my day, and all I saw and did and said and heard, I forget. Or a lot of it. The specifics, even those from the days of routine and predictability, are usually fresh enough at the end of a day to recount. But time passes, and as these stretches of consistency pass comes inevitably a sudden impression of such a length of time having passed, in what seems like so little.

Putting a day into words, however, is not the solution. I have attempted to keep a diary, with a record of the day’s activities and experiences. But as a matter of course I attempt to be so forthright with my ideas as is possible. If I’m going to write about what happened today, I’m going to write all that I remember. I go crazy for details: each phrase and idea refreshes the chain of memories, and I diverge and diverge. The next day as I read I react typically: discontent with form, disinterest in the mild and ordinary contents, and an urge to delete what I’ve written.

I want to write. I’ll write what goes through my head, the interesting things that happen, the things I want to remember.

Today after watching a movie in my literature course, Nichts als Gespenster, I walked home. It had snowed during the film but meanwhile it had again cleared to allow the last solid light of the day through. During my trip home I was struck by the beauty of my surroundings and experienced strong emotions, particularly through my climb up the stairs and during a brief pause at their summit; it had started to snow, with light, soft, lazily floating flakes. I stood there and attempted to sustain my emotions. After finishing my walk remained an impulse to write, which led to more productivity than I’d ever before found.

I have experienced an impulse to write with varying frequency since  childhood. Although I wrote most essays and paper assignments with fervor, I have never succeeded in continuing a project started on my own.