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I used to write

2015-01-22T18:53:17+00:00

I read some bad poetry just now, by some person who is a TED Fellow. I have never heard of a TED Fellow, though I have heard of TED, which is a group of people who are very impressed with themselves. Apparently there are 70 TED Fellows at any one time, chosen by someone or other because of things the nominees have done and/or because of things they may do. You know, like how President Obama got his Nobel Peace Prize. It wasn’t for anything he’d actually done, but for things he may do, like contributing to world peace. That is, if he can stop killing people with drones. (I think he is using the Muslim definition of “peace.” Corpses are peaceful.)

So. Bad poetry by a TED Fellow. Reading it reminded me that being associated with TED does not necessarily mean that you’re smart or talented, but merely that you were in the right place at the right time. (Much of life is based on being in the right place at the right time. What really matters is what you do with each opportunity, and whether you decide to call each decision point the “right” place and the “right” time.)

But reading that bad TED poetry also reminded me that I used to write poetry.

I then read an author’s description of her long struggle to write her first novel, a novel which grew out of a story that she wrote as a child. Then she described her long struggle to find an agent, and to get her book published. It amazed me at how hard she worked at it. It was very important to her that she get her story out there.

It reminded me that I used to write stories… novels, even. I used to write a lot of creative things, like exquisitely-crafted haiku; little flowers made of words.

I don’t write those things anymore. It’s not that I’ve lost interest, it’s just that I have other things to do. And I know that my writing is in no way special, just as those TED people’s writing is obviously not special. I may have a giant urge to write something, something deep and meaningful, something wonderful, but in fact it is only deep and meaningful and wonderful to me. And I already know what I am going to write. The act of writing it down just seems like wasted time and effort. Especially when I know that someone else will read it and say to themselves, “ugh.” Which was my reaction to the bad TED poetry.

Perhaps I am too good at seeing other people’s perspectives. That’s one big strike against telepathy, I can tell you. Telepathy is a constant reminder of how ridiculous you are to other people.

I’m still creative, but let’s just skip to the “ugh” reaction from others. It saves lots of time that I would have otherwise spent actually writing.

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