I was walking down the street

yesterday afternoon you told me that I’m always thinking about publishing everything, even that story. you’re probably right. but it is not about publishing, is about saying things out loud. listening to my own voice saying certain things helps me developing those thoughts, those ideas. when I see the things I’m writing, or hear the things I’m saying, plans become more solid, more real; intentions turn into future choices; I move stuff from that place in my mind where they are simple abstractions and create objects I can play with, even if that doesn’t mean making things real, starting any project, building anything, actually doing anything at all.

anyway, I just realized today during my lunch (I rode besobeso to that bench near the office) that the publishing part is some kind of addiction, I agree with you on that. long ago I just walked along the street thinking, maybe talking to myself, and that was enough. now I take a stroll and get to this (or other) silicium place and let words come out, transform into lists, sentences and that incoherent fabric with which this blog is built. sometimes it makes sense and something is actually made, something changes because of what is exposed to your eyes. sometimes is just words.

sometimes I feel it’s hard to stop doing that. sometimes I really feel the urge to write down even the tiniest idea (probably “jolt down” describes this procedure better). and then I do it. or don’t, as happens now (because I’m thinking about that… meta-thinking, instead of doing). a few years ago (no more than five) I used to carry a notebook with me, or a small page of pager folded to the size of a paperback. and I took a lot of notes, almost of everything: names, fictional titles for books or theatrical plays, concepts, small-blurry-confusing schemes of software (or data, or stories), ugly drawings… now I use to carry another notebook (a Moleskine), a phone (I can take pictures, video, write down notes, record sound), I have another notebook nearby (at least at work), a photo camera (I can take picture and record sound) and sometimes a laptop (when I’m traveling, which I’m doing a lot lately, or at home). and yet I don’t write down as many things as before, or do as many things with the ideas I have.
that’s what a job is all about: you end up spending more time in “real” things than on “ideal” things. and the “real” things are usually the kind of things that will help you buy food, not the kind of things that will make you feel happy or fulfilled (although sometimes both worlds are joined together, probably that’s the goal). and yes, I know all this is part of the “I need to do stuff, all the time” mentality which doesn’t really make sense, because life is just much more than that.
but I digress, I wanted to share my feelings about lists and the boundaries between sharing and shamelessly exposing oneself to the world. or maybe not share them, but putting them out there to see if I can understand those feelings. I mean, do you really need to know that I intend to install a RoR server? that I already thought about that before? do I need to share that? do you even care? (I know some of you do, at one point or another).

my point being: yes, talking out loud, writing, helps me thinking and doing. and I don’t fully understand the publishing part (why do I do it), because I’m aware I don’t publish everything, every thought, every emotion, every mental project. I will have to investigate that.