Tuesday, 2 February 2016

Recluse Shower Writer Woes I

I think I have officially coined a new term. See, here's the deal. Shower singers get all the recognition for being basically Adele for 15-30 minutes a day, but I think it's about time shower writers got some recognition.

show•er writ•er

an individual who writes all sorts of masterpieces in their head in the shower, extreme cases often murmur their creations to themselves while they absentmindedly leave the water running. tend to act like a recluse who has already had their big break in the book world (when in fact their primary writing publication is their notes app on their iPhone.

So yeah. Look at me going out there. Coining words. Making a name for myself.

I have taken ownership of the term shower writer because I find myself profusely writing poetry and looking for alternative rhymes and rhythms and making sPEEChes while I put my hair into a shampoo mohawk. So in a way of making myself useful for things other than midterms, I started a saga, if you will, called 'brain vomit' on my phone, the first note being on the 19th of October. And it has been going on since; 19th, 26th, 28th, 14th, 15th, 20th... and quite consistently too, which is very very unusual for me and my writing habits considering I basically wrote a book for NaNoWriMo 2015 and didn't like it enough to allow it to see any light outside my Microsoft Word prison.

The thing with this 'series' is:

  • Now that I've created something on my phone that has sentimental value and confidentiality requirements I'm
    • Irrationally concerned about people around my phone even more than usual
    • Incapable of waiting until I'm out of a social scenario when I need to write something that I have to evacuate (there is a reason it's called brain vomit)
    • More informed in terms of roman numerals because I decided to title each note "brain vomit i/?" because it's a, presumably, never-ending series
  • It's so comforting to have my thoughts documented somewhere that does not garner any feedback or invite any nosy eyes, or genuinely interested ones for that matter. I come back to them and am essentially teleported back to the morning of the 14th or the Thursday afternoon in the gym changing rooms at school. I feel like time is malleable in my mind's grip and that's exciting
  • I am getting far more comfortable with honesty. I'm very good with self-disclosure, don't tend to live in denial or accept my mind telling itself lies, but this has changed how I see communication. Once something is written down and out of my mind, it carries a different kind of worth. Some of it can be shared through chats or art or discussion and some of it is just beautiful in it's little safe rectangular container in its little slot in my millennial device.
  • Some lines I write are so beautifully vague or descriptive that everytime I re-read them I feel inspired and motivated enough to a degree to make art or write a little more and if my mess of a mind can be my own muse sometimes, it's a very beautiful place to be in. 
I suppose despite my inability to commit to a singular writing project at least I am always writing, whether it be in a Notes folder titled with an emoji of nosy eyes or on here every once in a while. I have heaps to look back on one day, and that is a satisfying and gorgeously haunting thought. 

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