Not for Unintended Audiences
I am not a writer. I feel that it is a noble calling to take up and hope that one day I too will have a message worth preserving on paper. It is a fine thing, to be able to know another human being across the distances of space and time. But in the act of transcribing his thoughts into an immutable form, the writer is also capturing an image of himself. It is an awareness of this fact that presents me with the difficulties I face when attempting to write. A blank sheet of paper is an open invitation to the unconscious mind. Decisions are constantly being made about how I wish to present myself, and the words I choose to write are each and every one significant, as well as those I choose not to.
I suppose in order to truly transmit the conception of yourself to another, the audience must be made aware of those thoughts which were allowed to fade into the aether. Some, such as myself, would say that the difference between art and madness lay with the audience. Possibly, the authoring of secret diaries is a manifestation of mental illness. Or, arguably, there is always an intended audience in mind when writing, the question is merely that of degrees removed from reality. It has just now occured to me that writing journals, that is, truly private accounts, can be considered writing letters to your future self. Or, maybe, to your ideal mate.
This is interesting because it highlights the differences between the self and the other. Also, I try to keep in mind that I am a male and that I view the world from a masculine paradox. If writing to your future self, you are writing to the you that you will envision you will become. At the very least, you imagine that you will be the sort of person who would read former journal entries. You write about those things which are important to you and that you wish to be proud of in the future. By writing them you reinforce them and move towards the ideal, creating truth out of fiction. I had been going to expand on the idea of writing journals to an ideal mate, but I realize now that it is the future self writing that is true journalism. If when writing you specifically speak to a member of the opposite sex then it is intended, consciously or not, to be read by another. I could make a point that all non-journalistic writing is ultimately intended for the audience of an idealized other, but that more involves Freud's later works.
In the end, writing is about having something to say. I realize, of course, that there is very much to be said about the world, and that the simple transmission of facts is a function that the written word serves. But reading something will always be a second hand experience, no matter the skill of the author. To write about something is to call attention to it. Now don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of writing. And reading, as well. Stay in school, kids. However, I cannot help but feel that in a perfect world there would be no need to call attention to anything, the whole of humanity would work in concert. But until that day, I shall wield my pen with all the courage and guile I can muster.