Of Words that Fail

This is how words feel to me sometimes

I’ve never been good with words. I’ve tried, but I could never quite reach the benchmark I set for myself. Well, you know what they say - if you challenge yourself, you’re bound to fail. But I'm sure that’s fine. Failure helps, doesn't it?

Still, I envy those who stumble upon an idea, play with it, expand it, shape it, and bring it to life. Those who write stories so beautifully - not by relying on adjectives, but by describing scenes so vividly and enjoyably that you ‘feel’ without being told how to feel. That, I think, is peak storytelling. And in the end, a story becomes beautiful only when a reader arrives to recognise that beauty.

Writing shouldn’t always have to be a monologue. I know that now. Writers and readers need each other - without one, the other loses its meaning. Writers bury the treasure; readers unearth it. That's how it usually works. And if there were no writers, there’d be nothing to read; if there were no readers, well… you could still write, but something essential would be missing.

I guess I’ll never be a storyteller. It’s not that I didn’t want to try again - I just couldn’t. Not ever. I guess at some point, I got discouraged, and I don’t think I ever recovered.

My envy is neither empty nor rooted in hate; it leans more toward admiration. Sometimes, a story conveys a point (be it political, moral, or economical) far more effectively than factual reports or studies ever could.

Storytellers, poets… they are the real dangerous ones. It’s not always those who can articulate arguments that ignite change. As E.B. White once said, “A despot doesn’t fear eloquent writers preaching freedom - he fears a drunken poet who may crack a joke that will take hold.”

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I'm not a writer. I can't see myself as one, and maybe I never will. There's a difference - if we're to be very honest with ourselves, we'll easily know the truth. I know the truth.

It's like this: I know how to play a couple of instruments, but that doesn't make me a musician. It doesn’t even matter how many instruments I can play - if I don’t have it in me, it will always be just surface-level skill. No more, no less. I know how to draw, but that doesn’t make me an artist. You probably know what I mean: If you look closely, you’ll see who’s really arting in the art department.

Of course, there's always the possibility of developing a skill, honing it, and turning it into a talent - but that’s another story.

Similarly, I can write poems, essays, and craft stories, but that doesn’t make me a writer. There’s a difference between merely having the technical skills and truly living and owning the craft. Even my technical skills are clearly lacking. So where do I fit in?

I only took the way of writing because I like sharing my thoughts, so as not to become trapped in my own perspective, and writing is the easiest way to do it and also the cheapest escape from my own mind. I thought it would be easy, but it wasn't. There's this fact that readers don't start by knowing what we mean. So if our words are ambiguous, our meaning would probably escape them. This has always been a challenge for me and I often fail... sort of. I can't quite articulate the ideas I try to convey.

my thoughts exactly

I’ve always been drawn to commentary - it’s a style I am quite fond of. And of course, bias is generally frowned upon, but I’ve never been great at self-restraint, and my being so opinionated always, always gets the best of me. I hope I grow out of it.

I’ve thought about what type of content I should contribute to the Steem. Should I go for something dynamic or stay in my comfort zone? There's something comforting and authentic about staying with what feels right for you, especially if it brings you joy - don’t you think? Well, I’ve given it some thought, and here it is: better the devil I know than the storyteller I’ll never be.

I think Steem doesn’t need another storyteller; we need only to discover the ones already here. It might not even need my commentary. But I’ll keep writing (or typing) until this platform spews me out or my words no longer have a place here.

But then again, after drifting through this digital sea, it seems to me that what it really needs is people who know how to have fun.