Drawing A Blank

I created my first blog with the intention of maintaining a strong political slant, but devoid of a clear mainstream ideology; specifically, my interpretations of world news. After focusing on newspapers, magazines and other blogs with such intensity, my work quickly morphed into a regurgitation of the news with little evidence of my personal analysis. I continued to develop and transitioned from general events in the news to international news with a strong focus on Middle Eastern politics. Still, I wanted to get away from the monotony and redundancy of simply writing articles and using the ubiquitous hyperlink as the Internet version of a bibliography. I wanted to bring the blog to a more personal level, so I could better relate with myself and others.

The past summer has left me, on many occasions, confounded and full of “philosophical” questions about life. Questions asked by nearly everyone yet rarely answered by anyone to any degree of satisfaction. The majority of people on this planet will never answer life’s most profound questions or even bother to try. Many chose uncompromising ignorance, while others, in an equally uninformed fashion, accept what they are taught. Be careful in your interpretation, by no means am I implying one cannot accept an idea with which they agree. Acceptance should follow the questioning and analysis of another’s ideas.

“Ignorance is bliss,” is one of the greatest truths in human history. Every time I explore a new corner of the World, expand my knowledge or experience an emotion, more questions arise and the mind suffers just a bit more. Given my inquisitive nature and inability to accept what I am told, I am driven to seek answers. Earlier this summer, I was inspired to start jotting notes in a “journal”. The journal’s purpose was not to recap events in the traditional sense, but to write and visualize questions I had and the thoughts circling overhead like vultures. Ideas in my head come and go as quickly as the mind’s nerve impulses dart from one synapse to another, hence the priceless art of writing. I write not only for the pictures drawn in the imagination, but for the history they keep. Twenty years from now I can look back and think: “Boy I was young and naïve, but I worked things through in my mind and I am a better person today because of it.” Or perhaps, “I can’t believe I was such a terrible writer! I must have been asleep in English class.”

To my dismay, the ideas racing through my head are generally too disjointed for the smooth flow of a blog entry. Rereading some of the material in my journal is a chore in of itself. One that, to be read coherently, requires several hours of polish. The level of effort involved is a damper on the frequency of posts.

I love writing and currently have two posts in the works. I am heading to NYC for the weekend which will inevitably provide me with ideas. Of course, I am certainly open to ideas if someone would like to offer a suggestion.