In multiple 'About Me' columns in online portals, or talking about things I like to frequently mention writing as a hobby. But that's being modest because in my head I am more than that. I am a writer. A writer, who due to time constraints, hasn't had a chance to write in a while, but can come up with the next best-seller in a heartbeat. And I blog. Again, not as frequently as I'd like to, but 10-15 posts a year is decent by today's standards where Twitter has killed the Blogging star. Besides +Greatbong Bongosontan, and +Tanmay Mukherjee .
For some reason I happened to check my past blog posts this evening and that's when reality struck. I have not written anything for three years. Nothing. Nada. I have blogged indeed, but continuously taken the easy way out through reviews, statistics, bullet point based posts, photos and other crutches which has just given me the illusion of being in touch with writing. And that's perfectly fine. Not everyone is a writer, and even if I nurtured lofty images of myself being one, my lack of writing isn't taking anything away from anyone's lives, even mine. Besides the vast fame and fortune that rightfully belonged to me.
However the biggest impact of this has been the impact this has had on my thinking process. Lack of writing has led to a dilution of clarity of thought, especially on subjects I personally care about and have strands of thoughts that don't seem to come together like they do inside my mind. This post itself is an apt example of what this post is about.
Hopefully more of such rubbish on a regular basis will have some positive impact in the long run. They say the 10,000 hour rule hardly fails. That's a lot of writing ahead, and I am not complaining.