A few nights ago I began what would be a regular series of posts called Letters from Melbourne. I came to the decision after a conversation with my someone about my future career as a writer. They told me that I should be writing something meaningful and be different from the masses of people with a blog who only rant about themselves, something that would aid my future in writing. And as the most unique thing about me at the moment is the fact that I recently moved from a small town to a big city, I focused on that.
I began the posts with high hopes. But now, as I attempt to write a second post, I’ve reached a brick wall. It’s hard to write something that hasn’t been written a hundred times before about city and country people; the contrast between lifestyles, mannerisms, manners, public transport, pollution, happiness, deaths. I’m racking my brain to put a new angle on these diversities, but the only thing I can think of saying is we’re all human. Manners differ between every person, as does fashion and happiness, regardless of where people live (well, maybe this is a factor but I’m not about to look up any statistics). We are all inherently the same, and I can’t dedicate myself to searching for the minute differences that people pick out between city and country people because the similarities heavily outweigh the discrepancies. Humans adore conflict, and perhaps creating this ‘us and them’ makes people feel a little more grounded in their community and themselves.
I moved 2000 kilometres away from my home because I didn’t want to live my life abiding to what other people wanted me to do. And now, I’m going to stop writing Letters from Melbourne (yes, that series was short-lived). I’d rather write what flows out of my fingertips than scratch the inside of my empty skull for something specific. I’m not sacrificing my daily discharge of thoughts for a task that I have to wrack my brains for – I’ve got uni for that.
Plus, they’re not “rants”; they’re one-sided conversations.