If you’re reading this, I probably know your name.
We’ve probably met in person anywhere from a few to a thousand times, and I would consider you a friend. You’ll likely continue to read the rest of this article out of either curiosity or an uncomfortable sense of obligation.
And if not, you’re probably an Odyssey editor who’s checking this article over to make sure that I’m not corrupting the public with Satanist propaganda or posting 46 pages of biology notes online because I think it’s funny.
The reason I feel so comfortable making all these claims is because I think most people are pretty lazy, and it goes without saying that I am no exception.
That’s why I’m writing this article about something so abstract and vague, simply because it’s easy to ramble about. Anyway, my idea here is this: because the general public is lazy (allow me this assumption for the sake of discussion), a vast majority of possible viewers of this article, or any other one, can’t be bothered to read it. Why should they be? To them, I’m an irrelevant name attached to another Odyssey article, which are generally pretty annoying to scroll through on Facebook, so most people opt out of it altogether.
What the hell is the point then? Even if you are a total stranger who’s legitimately interested in my opinion on opinions, I’m apparently so convinced that you aren’t that I’ve already dedicated half the article to explaining why I think you aren’t. So why didn’t I delete this article halfway through and quit the Odyssey? I considered it, but the answer is because I like talking to myself. And I think you should too.
The worst possible quality a human being can have is a lack of conviction. Personally, I find it to be a colossal turn-off. If you don’t think and believe of your own accord, you truly have nothing. In the face of the most severe misfortune and tragedy, all that remains is what exists within our minds, which can never be taken away.
Our opinions drive the way we live: the way we act, speak, treat others, and are perceived by others is dictated by our views. Without them, is not an individual, but a drifting sack of water and blood that can be swept up in the turmoil of the outside world without resistance.
Thusly, the constant formation and presence of opinions in our thoughts is an essential part of being alive. One of the best ways to foster this development is writing.
Because you’re my friend, a well-meaning editor, or a stranger who’s heard me out for this long already, I know you’ll believe me when I say that I honestly had no earthly idea what this article was going to be about until I started writing it.
To be frank, I wasn’t entirely aware that I had such strong opinions about opinions until the moment I wrote this sentence.
We assume that we know the ins and outs of our brains without question. This idea makes sense, but I don’t believe it to be true whatsoever. Scouring through one’s own mind through the act of writing, forces deeper, substantive thought to occur. Addressing a hypothetical audience makes the author work to fully expound upon his own ideas. The rationale behind this process is that the reader has to be able to understand the author’s writing- but doing so allows the author to get an even clearer perception of their own thoughts.
This is not to say that we need to write in order to “really” access the cryptic, foggy clutter of the mind. However, articulating your own thoughts, be it through text, speech, or any other medium, is an excellent way to flesh out concepts in an effective and fairly easy way.
Because you’re my dear friend/editor/unlikely reader, I want to tell you this: I don’t care if you write, I just want you to think. Writing helps me think, but it doesn’t help everybody- nothing helps everybody do anything.
Read a book, listen to a song, take 82,000 micrograms of pure LSD (maybe not). Whatever gives you the fullest command over your own thoughts, do that. I’m of the opinion that you should want to do it.
Because if you don’t think for yourself, what makes you “yourself?” Award-winning author Flannery O’Connor once said, “I write because I don't know what I think until I read what I say.” So if you think I’m a pretentious jerk, maybe you should write about it.
