fear of writing (not the singaporean play)

i honestly couldn’t find another term for what i’m feeling now. this particular subset of fear osciliates between point a: “procrastination”, which happens when I’m supposed to be writing, and point B: “writer’s block”, when i actually buckle down to try and type something out, but nothing comes out. everything sounds wonderful in your head two hours ago, but not now, because somehow every word, utterance, phrase, sentence – it’s all so garishly crude. absolutely disgusting. pig prose, they call it (whoever they are).

instant gratification from successful games in League of Legends always appeals more than an effort at writing, anyway.

i think the primary problem is this: that i have a particular fear of writing that kicks in whenever i try to buckle down and create something, because whenever I do, it ends up sucking immensely. endings will not make sense, there are plot holes in the story’s fabric, etc, etc, etc. things don’t match up, things don’t sound good, things are unclear, everything looks like the watery aftermath of one man’s meal at Chinese Wok at CJ – and that is to say, like absolute shit.

this, of course, is a problem because… look. every guy is good at doing something. some guys are musically inclined, some guys are more sportsy, some guys are brilliant leaders, some guys are book-smart, some guys are girl-smart (i take credit for invention of this term, which in no way applies to me), some guys are brilliant at Starcraft, you know the deal. they’ve got some sort of ridiculous talent that only they can bring to the world, and those who claim that they don’t just haven’t quite found their niche.

i thought once about the idea of writing maybe short stories, maybe novels, but that was more or less a passing fancy. now, though, when i’m really trying to create something, the fear is kicking in, and i’m feeling what almost every lost student feels at the start of an exam – not knowing where to start.

yes, H2 History, i’m looking at you.

this is usually where i start drawing up outlines, but.. there’s this ridiculous fear that won’t go away. i’m cool with imperfection for almost anything (cincai lah!), but sometimes imperfection just doesn’t cut it when you’re doing things for someone else, you know?

i’m not too sure what to think. just gonna go pop some heads in Saints Row now. (yes, I am fully aware this is Point A kicking in.)

Writing stopped being fun when I discovered the difference between good writing and bad and, even more terrifying, the difference between it and true art. And after that, the whip came down.
Truman Capote

EDIT: wordpress is pretty cool. it kind of read my mind when i clicked Publish Post; it gave me this quote -

That isn’t writing at all, it’s typing.

Truman Capote

and yes, i use the two interchangeably. my handwriting is horribly crude, but you know, sometimes pen and paper make for a more.. textured medium. it can suffice as a hand-laboured creation of love, as imperfect as it is, as love should always be.