Member-only story
I’m Really Trying to Understand You
Day 15, Sunday 1st April 2018
Writing feels incredibly intimate. The process of drawing something meaningful out of my head and onto this page is difficult and I feel that I’m only scratching the surface. The ideas that really want to come out feel trapped inside, they’re no more than a feeling, a churning that I try to access, but they won’t come out easily. I’m not sure I even have the language to describe it, it’s just a ceaseless disturbance which festers within me as I write yet another daily column for Medium.
This repetitive process of writing quickly and candidly, every single day, and publishing it, is my response to a desire to emancipate myself from the confines of my mind. If there are thoughts, ideas and feelings trapped inside, then I need to clear the path to them, by writing my way out of this situation.
Writing, however, confuses me. I sit here and talk about opinions and thoughts, which is just a stream of ideas that come out of my head. I tried to write a book, but I’m not ready, I got stumped around 27k words when I realised I simply wasn’t cut out for the distance involved. I came back down to smaller work, now looking to produce long-form articles based on my deep knowledge of certain foods. I can come back to a book.
