throughout the later years of high school and college, the things i wrote down would start to form with a cohesion that could possibly maintain the attention of intelligent beings. this was borne out of a need, a desperate desire to an audience that sprung from a singular event.
ironically, however, my writing was not improved by putting words down on a paper, but from actually speaking, talking, hearing myself out loud, responding to what other people said, recollecting their reactions from things i would say, and just generally thinking on the fly of various combinations of things i could say to elicit a certain type of response. there was extensive self training and forming various new habits where i'm quite certain my brain was starting to wrap the myelin or whatever it is around the synapses necessary to just be more improvisational and quick on my feet.
music was another way for me to really delve into this realm of transferring ideas. the movement of words in combination with tones just awoke an infectious need for me to relate anything i come across into a song (i often just sing a line from a particular song like an annoying song quotable jukebox when the proper situation arises). after a musical phase in high school, it was in college when i watched moulin rouge for the first time, awakening a somewhat latent desire to be in some sort of musical theater (although i don't think i'm ever going to be cut out for broadway), and in turn my love for the dramatic and acting.
i feel that my quest for self expression is not nearly complete. and i have myself to blame for that, i have taken shortcuts and have been lazy in that regard, not fully living up to the potential i have been given. sometimes it's difficult however, when caught up in bouts of despair to wonder if what you have to say really even matters at all, if it's at all different than whatever has been said, and even if it matters and hasn't been said, if it will have an impact or meaning on the things i cherish and value. it is this intangible outcome that debilitates and paralyzes me to the point where i cannot truly feel free in expression and backslide into mediocrity.
i do not know how to stay sharp and motivated anymore. i need a purpose, a reason, a desire, an impetus.