I’ve been finding it hard lately to plop myself down and write. I just keep thinking that I lack inspiration, that I lack anything interesting to say. But I know it’s not true. Writing was never about finding something powerful or inspirational to say, it’s about turning the ordinary to the extraordinary.
Lately I’ve been hating on the educational system – it teaches format, structure, and frankly as a result, looks down upon creativity. From a young age we are encouraged to write, to express, to find ourselves in the world; but it seems that once we are older, there’s no need to teach that anymore – we spend hours writing essays, memorizing information, and practicing problem sets. We mindlessly walk to class, absorbing as much as we can in the one hour class periods. We analyze novels that were once great, once acclaimed, instead of setting out to write our own. It’s a system. Mechanical. And I hate it. There’s an expectation that you’ll be surrounded by so many hobbies and so many other outlets of expression that it is no longer necessary to encourage creative thought, but the majority of people feel out of tune with that expectation. Sure, many people indulge in music, dance, athletics, drawing, reading, gaming, or some other medium of passion, but the majority lack passion, lack the drive to invent, to create, to express.
And lately, it seems that I’ve been lacking too.
How can we, as youth, be inspired whilst caged in format, in limits, in structured techniques, in classes that look towards the past instead of the future? True, history is necessary in order not to repeat past mistakes and knowledge is required to form a basis for innovation and forming new knowledge…but there’s no push, no motivation, no power pressing for novelty. And it bothers me. Because those that do create are pressing against some grain. They are checked at every level for originality, for authenticity, for mechanistic practicality. Perhaps I’m just rambling on about nothing, but it seems to me that society is against the creation of new ideas. New implies disorder. And disorder fractures the hold of society on its people.
Nevertheless, I am in awe of all those that can grasp inspiration in this tundra of rules and limits. I am in awe of people will passion, with drive. And I can only hope to one day find my own drive, my own passion and have the capability to pursue it.
I need to get back to writing. It allows me to reach deeper within my thoughts and to be frank, I miss it. I’ve been in slumber far too long. After all, ideas don’t have to be new to mean something. And writing, even if it has no effect upon any other, will always have hold upon the author.