Friday, October 13, 2017

"Begin with the Bin" by RaeKwonTheChef

I could tell you that writing comes easy. I could tell you that creativity flows through me. I could tell you that I’ve always enjoyed writing. If any of those words were shoot through my windpipes and escape through my teeth— well, I would be lying. To be honest, writing has never come easy for me, and I it never does.
Yes, I do believe I can write. Now, when I say “write” I really mean the term “loosely write”. What that means is when you read any work of mine, please don’t expect to reach some sort of enlightened state of mind or some crap like that. My writing is usually just some sort reflection of the mood I am currently feeling, just changed in terms of a certain prompt. See right now you’re catching sassy Ethan, but in a few minutes you might get angry Ethan, depending on whether or not I have math homework to do. Let me introduce another annoyance of mine— it is a huge misconception that I am some sort of writing god to my friends just because I’m in the Writing Center. Ok sure, I am above average when it comes to editing essays, and I have developed a knack for tutoring people. But I need to make this clear: I am still a normal writer! The only thing that differs me from most people is that I’m not afraid to scribble down what I think onto paper, and in the end that’s what counts.
Whenever I do write, I write for myself. Now I’m not one of those people who only writes to express themselves, but really just for my own entertainment. I find it very satisfying to be able to create something original and to later read and laugh at what I wrote. I’m not one of the those people who “writes the pain away” or writes to put the thoughts onto paper, it’s just not my style. I mean sure, if it’s an assignment like Spoken Word that happens to cross the idea of writing out my feelings then why not, but you won’t catch me at my house writing elaborate stories that have some inner motif connected to my self thought. To be honest, you’ll probably find me napping. In reality, if I have some sort of deep emotion in my mind, I either lay or sit there for a while just thinking about how sucky it is and not doing anything about it. I guess that’s unhealthy but whatever. Pizza is also unhealthy, but has that ever stopped anyone?
I guess this is the part where I talk about my one writing moment—just give me a second to find my timeline. God, this backpack is full of papers. Ah there it is, buried under food wrappers and failed paper airplanes. Let’s see what this says… ah, ok! So Spoken Word. What is it? To be honest, I never really figured that out either, but let’s just pretend that I did. Spoken Word is basically like performance art except with words, focusing on clever wordplay with tone and emotion. I definitely did not have to google the definition. It’s an assignment that I have done the last two years in my Writing Center class and hopefully will do again this year. Now, I know this may be a little hard to believe, but I am actually going to get a bit serious here. Spoken Word is a sacred part of the Writing Center because you are basically exposing yourself to your classmates and letting them know your deepest insecurities, fears, and who you are as a person. In simple terms, it’s raw. Not like WWE Raw (dammit I was supposed to be serious!), but you get the point.Ugh, scratch that last part. Here’s the point I was going to make about Spoken Word before I got sidetracked: it fundamentally changed who I was as a writer. Let me explain why.
I was writing the piece the night before (clutch, right?), and though I was cranking out draft after draft, I couldn’t find a version that I liked. One was too serious, another too jokey, one was just really weird— man, what was I thinking? I probably had written twenty different openings to my Spoken Word until I just wanted to give up. I was fed up with the trial and error, and concluded that it would be better to turn in mediocre work than nothing at all. However, at the verge of calling it quits, I decided to give it one last try— except this time with no backspace. No, I actually didn’t pry the backspace off my keyboard, but as long as I didn’t butcher the spelling of a word I kept my index finger away from that key. No matter what I wrote, I just kept on writing, no matter how good or bad (mostly bad) it went. Somehow, someway, probably thanks to Jesus, it actually worked. I had something written down that had the potential to be something great. After some major tweaking, rhyme scheme fixing, and syllable counting, I clicked the save button for the last time and sat back with pride. I finished. I finished the unfinishable. I had learned that night that I didn’t need to write something amazing the first time around. All I needed to do was trust myself and my capabilities and to let go of all the doubts I had about myself. And, ever since that night, I have been a different writer.

I would be lying to you if I told you I liked writing. I do not like it.... I love it. Although I have discovered who I am as a writer, there is still an infinite amount more to be written. And to be honest, that’s the hard part—there is no exact formula on how to write. Every time I write I do something different; I use a new word or perhaps a different format. To tell you the truth, there is no recipe to writing. There are no dos and don’ts, no right and wrongs— there is only you. I have learned that you yourself are the writer, the thinker, the most creative and intelligent individual in this room right now whether you believe it or not. I learned that we all have the potential to change the world with our words, and all you have to do is have a pen full of ink and an open mind. So write, write until your hands hurts, until the word limit has been reached, until the lead is all gone from your pencil. And then, only after doing so, write some more. 

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