Writing with a pen is different than typing on a keyboard. Right now, I'm writing on a small notepad on the way home from Easter dinner at my parents. The car jostles over the bumpy freeway in need of an actual repair job rather than quick patchwork to keep the roads from ripping apart.
Why am I writing in a car going 75 miles per hour, in the dark, while rain soaks the road, making pitter-patter noises on the windshield? Because I'm utterly exhausted. My goal is to go home, type this up into blog form, post it, and fall into bed. Changing into pajamas is optional; if I manage to take my shoes off before my slumber, I will be very happy.
Like I said when I first began, writing pen to paper feels vastly different. Not necessarily better but not worse either. When I was younger, only handwritten journal entries would do. I had some sort of mental block where I firmly believed it was impossible to type out my thoughts. I needed the pen.
Possibly those opinions were derived from years of academic essays where each paper required some sort of formal structure, analytical thoughts, all with a standard thesis and conclusion. Typing on a keyboard was how I processed written "works" to be judged, graded, and play some role in my school career. It was not a place I went to let go of my thoughts and allowed myself to open my heart. I'm glad I was able to make that switch because in the end, I type far faster than I write and my thoughts are given more freedom. Not that they always need that. Like now for example! With that, good night!
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