pointless writing

there used to be two options of writing your thoughts – diaries and letters. writing a diary was very interesting. on one hand you did not want anyone to read it, and yet on the other hand the thought of writing all this profound stuff that no one can ever appreciate was very sad. you usually want to be discovered when you are at the diaries writing age and you secretly hope that there will be someone (you don’t know whom) to find this diary of yours who will understand you like nobody ever had because nobody else has this full access to your inner world. yet at the same time you understand that you are not special at all, your thoughts on paper are crap, and you will live your whole life depressed and undiscovered. so the diary writings goes on and off all the time.

then there is (was) letter writing. this could only exist if you had someone to write to, someone or few some ones who you could share all these personal thoughts with and you had to be far from them to write to them. let’s say there is just one person, and you had to be physically near that person originally and then get apart. and then your relationship evolves from relationship with the actual person who can talk back to you to the relationship with the image of this person. by the time you get (and if you get) a reply you are already in a very different place in your mind. so the letters become just a way for you to express yourself, all your personal thoughts, and unlike diary, you don’t get to keep your letters. the letters could be out there, and you are embarrassed because you don’t really remember what was in them but you know if was very private and stupid. and the person you wrote to does not exist because this is not the same person you knew, and you are definitely not the person you were and all the thought sharing was really with yourself but it would never happen if you did not have that person to write to - the person that is now imaginary person in your head. a while back, i was reading kafka’s letters to his fiancé and there was this segment in there, something like this – written letters don’t get to their destinations, the ghosts are sucking them in on their ways. and this weird phrase really got me, it was exactly what i was feeling and could not put into words.

i feel like i lived in a whole other century with all these cheap phone companies, emails, ims, chats and all the rest of the sort. and don’t forget the blog.