I started writing on the internet in 2005. I had a lot on my mind, things I needed to say. I could have said them in a journal, but instead I posted my words for all the world to see. In retrospect, perhaps the reason I chose to do so was that I needed someone, anyone, to read what I had to say.

The words crawled out slowly, tepid at first but with increasing rapidity as they were read by more and more eyes. Those eyes became people, who in turn became friends. Those friends blossomed into friendships, and before long I was telling stories, regaling the web with things I saw that made me laugh or smile. The more stories were told, the more stories were sought out just so I would have new ones to tell. A voice was then lost in a void. A voice that thought about things, felt things, was drowned out by a voice that simply wanted to see things. Seeing was believing. But seeing is only one part of believing, and without thoughts or feelings, seeing is something else completely: boring.

It's a common enough theme when one writes on the internet. I've seen enough people come and go, and have observed the pattern in both my own writing and that of others. Somewhere along the way, I lost touch with my passion for writing. I got consumed with only one part of it, and some of its magic slipped away as a result.

I spend a good deal of my work day writing. The writing I do is cold, repetitive, clinical. In an effort to find my voice again, I've taken to journaling. I have a paper journal, which I use sparingly at this point, though mostly because I can't write with my hand fast enough to keep up with my brain. So I've been using some technology to help me out in that regard. I have written every single day since October 15th. I write about what I did each day, or things I felt, or dreams I had, or new ideas that occur to me.

I never keep track, but I would hazard a guess that I spend a minimum of 30 minutes to an hour per day writing. I write whatever comes to mind, in whatever sequence my brain produces it, and I never edit it. The beauty of writing like this is that it has gotten the words back out from my head and onto the screen (virtual paper, I suppose). I turn off most distractions: no TV, no music, no phone calls. I simply sit down and write.

This has bled over into other aspects of my life as well. Instead of trying to fill my every waking hour with some form of entertainment, I've given myself space and have just let my mind wander. Instead of staring at my phone while on the shuttle into work, I look out the window and watch the world go by. Instead of having music playing around me at all hours, I have embraced the silence. Instead of humming along, my thoughts are free to take me where they may.

I like this path I seem to have found. I see just how much I missed writing, and how happy I am to be doing so again. I realize how long I went without embracing my wandering mind, and how I missed it so. I feel more human, more alive, and more inspired than ever.