Free Write Blog

Sometimes it is so difficult to find the inspiration to write, and other times it flows freely. The professor said that the best thoughts come when you forge on past the point when you feel you have nothing left to say. Sometimes I think that is true. But not today. I think a person can write too much. Using this beautiful method of expression for passionless frivolity feels sad. So I will instead use it as my outlet. We have been reading poetry in class lately, so I will allow myself to be moody. I’m tired of writing. I’ve written dozens of dozens of emails and cover letters as part of my internship search over the last month, the fruit or which I have not yet seen. I could form a book from their pages. Cover letters and emails. The art of composing these can be more nuanced than writing poems. You must convey meaning, often without saying what you mean outright. But unlike for a poem, this meaning must not be open for interpretation, not really. Although you want the reader to feel like they interpreted it themselves, so that they form their own opinion of you, but that opinion must be what you wanted it to be. So why do we struggle with poetry? It makes us think things we are not accustomed to being made to think about, and even when we think about them, we are not sure whether or not we were meant to. Does this art form serve a function? Does it have to serve a function to have value? I am undecided. My best work has always been directed at a purpose. This does not mean that I need someone to tell me what to write about. Quite the contrary. If someone tells me what to write about, it will likely be passionless and uninspired. Poets must care about what they write about, to write it of their own volition. But I cannot get inside their heads. I think function is important to me even though I am undecided as to whether or not it should be. It just is.