Mornin’ sunshine: a stream of consciousness - 1 

by Reu Borja

6.10.24 / 10:47 / Mon

“Mornin’ sunshine,” the white text on the yellow mug I chose for my morning coffee is a great (or is it not so great? Let me get back to that later, mostly because “great” in this case is highly subjective) juxtaposition to this morning’s queasiness, pounding headache, and fatigue.

I was reading this book on writing well, as in the book is called just that. This along with the creative writing book I got from Barnes and Noble about a week ago had me eager to be writing on my laptop again, this time focusing on my stream of consciousness, have you heard of that? It’s a writing style, well, not formally, but moreso a developed writing style by certain authors (which could be you, or me, or anyone really) where the writer simply writes whatever comes to mind, each thought a continuation of the previous, until the end of a page. It sounds kind of annoying, doesn’t it? Like when does this thought ever end, where is this thought going, what are you trying to tell me? Not just annoying in a sense of denoting impatience, but annoying as in crude and rude—insensitive (or maybe inconsiderate?), almost as insensitive as me flushing twice when I relieve myself. I know it sounds gross, like what good comes out of you knowing this? but see, I’ve always flushed twice. Once as soon as it’s over, and once again after cleaning myself. It helps with the smell, and it helps with the cleanliness. That is until my boyfriend pointed out this behavior, “Why do you flush twice?” So then I said the very same thing I told you now, and then I was met by something along the lines of, “There are about eight to nine people that stay regularly or live here, be mindful of the water usage. After all, we’re not the only ones that use the bathroom, and most of us don’t use it just once.”

“Huh. I never thought about that,” and then I felt insensitive.

I say insensitive because it wasn’t exactly something I realized could be inconsiderate, where the distinction is that insensitiveness is accompanied by ignorance and unfeeling, and inconsiderateness is accompanied by being unthoughtful of other’s needs. I think my initial reaction to that was less about the number of people that lived in this home, and more about how I didn't see how he perceived this action until he said so, only then was it followed by a feeling of inconsiderateness.

I think writing in streams of consciousness is more or less the same—insensitive, inconsiderate, annoying—but I think sometimes it’s necessary, not only to feel that way, but to understand why that is. It might be a self-confidence thing. I mean, for one, I've always written with a lot of care, each sentence simultaneously a part of the first and last draft, with barely any revisions. I remember taking this quiz for English class once, where it (“it” being the quiz) tries to identify your workflow when it comes to writing (not your flow, not your style, but your workflow), and how you can work with or around that. Some people write roughly, and they keep on writing, and they edit and revise later. Others, like me, write more deliberately, the first draft being the final draft, revising as you write. The quiz identified my workflow as the more deliberate writer. But you know what’s interesting? I was fine with that, which is fine, you know. But the thing is, writing deliberately hasn’t served me the past few weeks, maybe even months, when it comes to writing (although to be fair, a specific workflow, or even just something “serving me” sounds weirdly self righteous). I guess a more tame way of saying it is, it hasn’t helped me get back into writing. If anything, it’s made it seem unapproachable and difficult, especially since I stopped journaling frequently.

What I'm trying to say is, both workflows are good, but I think it’s good to try another workflow, if you find yourself stuck in a rut. You’re not stuck in this type of workflow, you’re not stuck in this style, you’re not stuck in this personality, you’re not stuck with this dandelion yellow mug, you’re not stuck anywhere. But maybe that’s the scary part. If you’re not stuck, where do you go, and how do you do it? Where do you go with this stream of consciousness, and how do you not come across as inconsiderate of someone’s time, energy, and attention span? I mean, who’s paying attention at this point? Is any of this even interesting? Like I said, a self-confidence thing, but also a self-esteem thing. You’re gonna have to pull it off, in your most vulnerable state, by having the words to say what you’re thinking without worrying about your self image.

I’ve watched a couple things regarding personality, specifically two things: one is a video on getting a personality, the other is a movie about a college psychology professor who is an undercover hitman. It’s interesting how these two mediums made me think about the things I've learned and think about when it comes to communication and personality. As you know, personality is a set of traits you embody based on experiences and genetic factors. But you see, when we use this word—personality—how come you hear people say something like, “she has no personality,” but that’s impossible, right? Because you can’t be a person without a personality, and in its own paradoxical way, having no personality could be this specific she’s personality. But it doesn’t actually mean she has no personality. It means she just seems to like the same things everyone else does, or acts like everyone else does.

Anyway, see, this is what I noticed—it’s that people aren’t exactly interested in where to find a set of traits that make up a personality, or where it comes from, they’re more interested in how to seem interesting. It’s why you have teens with low self esteem look up stuff like, “how to get a personality,” or, “how to talk to people” (to have friendliness or charm be associated with their personality). When you hear someone say that guy over there has no personality, it means he just doesn’t seem interesting at all. And what if people see my writing, no, my stream of consciousness that way? What if, people think, oh my god, when does this piece end? This is so utterly boring. No one cares.

In this book on writing well, I read something along the lines of, “Writing is your ego, so you might as well admit it, and use it to keep going.” Paraphrased, obviously. I think this is how one of my favorite writers Raphael Bob-Waksberg writes, in some way shape or form. He has this stream of consciousness that takes over the page, and it feels like dissecting his brain, and getting to hear each and every thought, pause, doubt, and re-clarification. He admits it through writing, and he sure as hell goes with it. It keeps you reading more.

Most people won’t read for the material. You could talk about the most uninteresting topic, or talk about something I have no clue about, and I'll keep on reading if you make it interesting, if the writer’s voice and thought process keeps me going, word for word, page per page. That’s how you write well. When you do you, others will do their part in painting your personality, and when you keep going with it, they’ll keep on reading every line, making this personality clearer and more vivid over time.

So you know, I thought to myself, I shouldn't have to worry about being interesting, I just need to be myself, and then I'll sound interesting. That’s what it is. That’s what it means to write. It’s so different from how I've written for many years, twelve? I mean, if we’re talking about when I first seriously started writing, it would be twelve, when I was nine, when I first started writing songs because Taylor Swift’s songs in 2011 sounded interesting. I thought, “How does she do that? What is she doing when she writes that just makes it good?” But if we’re talking when I first started writing, god, I've been writing for as long as I can remember, since I first learned to type when I was two and a half years old. I remember drawing, and writing all these short stories—story connoisseur—an old best friend from third grade used to call me, because I just loved writing. It evolved from fictional short stories, to romantic love songs, to essays and memoirs. But never have I ever considered writing like this. And you know what? It feels good. It feels freeing, in a way, it really flexes different muscles in my brain.

Anyway, this “mornin’ sunshine” mug is a great example of the engraved, cursive text’s insensitiveness to how my morning’s going. But maybe it doesn’t seem so great at being insensitive now, because my morning turned out better than when I first typed a few words on this page (actually, you know what, it’s still insensitive, because now my day’s better). My morning coffee is good, my headache is gone, the string lights in my boyfriend’s room softly glow, I flush once, I ramble, and most of all, no, more precisely—I write.

I write, and it feels good to be me.