ImprompTwo: More Spontaneous Freewriting

3...2...1...and we're off! The second night in a row I've spontaneously decided to end my day with a 25-minute freewriting session. It's always a boost in self-confidence (at least for me) to be able to stick to a goal you made for yourself (which, in this case, was the objective of writing at least one article or entry every day for a week), even when that sticking-to-it is not so convenient or natural or effortless. And, although I can't say I can already see the fruits of this process, I can certainly see now how this practice of freewriting could potentially sharpen one's skill significantly and make one an all-around better writer, especially if the freewriting practice is stuck to consistently and purposefully.

But anyway, I digress (even though I'm of course really not in a freewriting session). Another topic that's been on my mind as of late is whether this recent writing of mine has actually been read at all by any real, honest-to-god human eyes inside a human head on top of a real human body. Anyone match that description? If so, maybe interact with this post in some way--leave a comment, donate something, subscribe to my profile. I'd love to strike a conversation with someone else who practices freewriting often and uses it to strengthen their skills as a writer. I'm quite honestly new to this platform, so I'm not sure at all how frequent and widespread the general participation is in these sorts of communities.

I suppose another factor that makes it more difficult to envision actual people reading my material is also the fact that when I'm writing--and really trying to write good and to my own satisfaction--I ideally want to suspend any thought of writing to some abstract audience composed of tons of different, actual people, and focus more on writing to THE audience, the abstract sort of critic or idea-receiver who can be conceived of as an individual unit, not a variegated sampling of real, really unique persons. But that's also super theoretical and kinda conceptually complex, and when I'm actually in the writing process (like I am right now, as I physically sit in my chair and type this out on my laptop at 12:04 AM), I very likely can and will be distracted by the thoughts of real people reading these words, and how they might react to them, and whether there's something distasteful in them or pretentious or offensive or whatever--that's the social awareness, the anxiety maybe even.

But that whole question is really quite secondary when it comes down to the more important point, which is of course that I am simply...satisfied (a rare but blessed state), content you could say, with how I have quickly adapted and established this impromptu program to improve my writing skills in a sustained fashion. I don't know if it's something obvious to other people or if it's something weird or unusual, but for me truly my writing means a lot to me. It means a lot to me that I am able to clearly and powerfully express my inner dialogue into interesting, beautiful pieces of work.

I think everyone, at least to some extent, has that one (maybe it's a combination of like 2 related but separate things, but it tends to be singular) thing that they consider to be their most pronounced strength, their most impressive skill or ability or trait or whatnot. Truly, for me that's writing. I consider it my art, my gift, my skill, not my everything (I'm not that dramatic), but a certifiable chunk in my mass of being. Something that I have always, and hopefully will always, cherish as part of my identity and embody as part of my existence. Hopefully I've contributed just a little to that cause tonight. A cause I consider worthy. Of my attention and my effort. Of my admiration and my attachment. Of myself.

Until next time. Peace and love, strangers.