I know most single children have a habit of talking to themselves. Although this isn’t something to do with loneliness as some others would like to believe, for me it is a favourite past time for many reasons. you can put the blame on that imaginary friend of yours for whatever stupid things you did today, you can have a session of some ‘intelligent’ conversations when no one is around to judge you, and perhaps the most useful thing about having an imaginary friends that they help you introspect.
Weird as this might seem, I discovered something even more interesting (or weird, depending on how you choose to look at this) today. WRITING to yourself can be almost as much fun as talking to yourself. These past few weeks I have been feeling quite useless owing to the fact that my days lately comprise of nothing very significant or interesting except from going to University to attend classes, coming back home and dozing off and waking up to catch up on coursework or watching random shit on television. Such a monotonous, largely non-productive phase can make someone like me feel pretty useless in life, especially when there is so much to do in the world.
So, I decided to do something better with my life and go back to my long-lost loves like reading, photography, or simply writing a little something meaningful. The only major problem: I have NO TIME. And this is when I discovered, the ‘art’ of writing to yourself.
It all started when I was sending myself a test mail when Gmail brought out a new version of its ‘Compose New Mail’. I sent a nice little letter to myself telling me about this new feature and how I hope this works well and is not a disappointment like many of the changes Facebook seems to be making these days. And then i proceeded to read the new mail i had just received from myself. And boy, was it fun?
To read something from yourself like a friend of yours had sent it to you, it brought back memories of those wonderful letter-writing days when one would pen down all one’s nice thoughts and questions about life and then eagerly wait for the other person’s reply. Why is it that we don’t write anymore? And why is it that we don’t write to ourselves?
Not only will writing to oneself help in introspection, it surely makes for interesting and intriguing conversation. To ask yourself questions about everything that goes on in your mind, to read a letter filled with so many emotions and to reply back with as much feeling as it took while reading, is something that really needs to be felt again.
I know I will start writing to myself regularly now. Not to ‘Dear Diary’, not to my imaginary friend ‘Hung Shao Chang’ but to myself.
I finally wrote in my blog today after ages, and it felt good.