Hey, Flockmates :) It’s been months since
I last visited this place. I don’t know, but no matter how hard I try, this
blog will always be in my heart. Its my sanctuary, a little corner where I
could express how I feel in the comfort of words. Little of my real life friends
know I even blog, and that makes it a relief because the posts I’ve written in
here are intimate muses from my heart. Sometimes I think how silly it all
seems, blogging, because you write a bunch of paragraphs to an invisible
audience. It’s like talking to yourself, but at the same time talking to a
group of people. I think that’s why I like it here. It’s that thin line.
So, what’s up with
me? I’ve been struggling for the past few days with a variety of obstacles. I’m
overcommited, family feuds, got a bit of cloud stuck in my head, friendship
lows and maybe a bit at loss with myself. If those are the bad stuff, there are
positive things too that happened. I’m writing again, involving with paper
crafts, experimenting with painting, learning how to cook, and I’ve
strengthened my bonds with my sisters.
I’ve made mistakes, flockmates. I made broken promises, and
hurt a few people, and I’ve been lazy and selfish, thinking only of myself. I
feel really bad, but I have my reasons too.
I’ve lost my love for the publications team, I’m stuck on a
certain task at another organization, and my writing... Even if I said that I’ve been writing again
lately... it’s just not the same.
Lately, I’ve been
frustrated with my writing. It doesn’t flow as easily as before, my words are
not smooth, characters lacking life, scenes needing more dertails, and a lot of
writing mishaps in which I’ve caused. Recently, I’ve looked up articles in ‘rekindling
the passion’ and this quote plucked a string in my heart. A melody I never
thought I would hear again played.
“You must write every
single day of your life… You must lurk in libraries and climb the stacks like
ladders to sniff books like perfumes and wear books like hats upon your crazy
heads…may you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that
love, remake a world.” ―Ray Bradbury
That’s not the only
reason why I’m writing a blog post in TheNothingale after months. There were points that were excruciatingly true.
I’m here to chatter
about my love for writing. Forget
the fame, the money, the brutal comments, the perfectionism... I’m going to dig
deep and return to my core. I’m going back to why I love writing in the first
place.
Writing had always
been a part of my life. Actually, it’s not just a part. It’s my life.
I recalled writing
with only pencil and paper, in illegible handwriting, silly stories of whales
and bees and stick people. I was very young, maybe 5 or 6. I had an extremely huge
imagination...
And maybe that was the core reason which lead me to pick up the pen.
Imagination.
It was the start of a
storm that would haunt my life for an entire decade.
From there, I grew to
love writing for other reasons too. It was an outlet for my thoughts and
emotions: Expression.
I was probably like
love-sick Romeo even at a young age because I could not count all the poems I’ve
written for my childhood crush. Whenever my heart gets crushed by unrequitted
love, my muse was always there for me.
Another reason was
the joy of showing my work to the world.
I was introduced to
commercial writing at Third grade, at the age of 8 or 9. At first, it was the
pure bliss of seeing others liking your work. I remembered carrying more
notebooks in my bag that my other peers. Why? Those notebooks contained
stories. They were my ‘pretend’ books in which I show to others.
I even had a little system
back then. I would write stories, then show them to my classmates. They would
read and I remember studying their reactions intently. I got positive
reactions, to the point where some people would bug me for more material to read.
“El, do you have new stories?” They’d ask. Oh, I was so ecstatic.
As I grew older, my writing
evolved too. From silly comics and little stories, I eventually started to
write in paragraphs. As I aged, they grew longer and longer.
The world also grew
bigger for me. Not only that, life also had its hands gripping at my throat and
a bunch of other teenage stuff.
Then came in the
presence of other writers, Critiques, and the reality of publication, editors,
and how competitive the world is.
As I write this post,
I realize that my core love for writing had been filled with other clutter.
That’s why the fire, the love, was fading.
What about those
times when I would question my talent?
Back in the day, my
writing was pure. No other hidden
intention, I simply wrote because I loved it. It was literary innocence. As the
years went on, I discovered more of the writing world, how others were better
than me, and the fact that if you have the talent for it, you’ll be credited
more, and you’ll grow famous and rich...etc.
I started questioning
myself whether I had what it takes to be a published
author, and my writing had been encircling around it ever since.
Maybe that’s the stone
blocking the river. Maybe I forgot passion in my journey to excellence.
I realize, when was
the last time I wrote out of the love of it?
Lol, maybe now! I’m loving every single moment of my blog! Riding my
thoughts as it rises and falls.
Gosh, I can feel it
coming back to me again.
I want to cry, like,
right now because trying to mend these broken writing bones meant rediscovering
the real me.
Alright, that’s it
for today... I guess my mission has been accomplished! I’m feeling way better
now, and... I feel healed, rejuvenated, brought back from the dead.
Final words?
Things are different
now. My childhood had a different world compared to my present. Everyone I used
to know grew, and changed. The writing world is bigger than I thought, full of
sheep and sharks, and I feel like swimming in the middle of it all. But what I want
to take from this post, forever, is the idea of passion.
I may not me the best
writer in the world, but I love what I do, so why bother? I can’t imagine
myself without writing, and I think it was destiny that brought me here.
It was probably not a
coincidence on why I was accepted in the publications team when I was 11. There
must be a reason on why I was selected as the Editor-in-Chief of our school.
Hey the world around
me is now a pretty hue of yellow, brought by all these realizations. I feel enlightened. (Or maybe the yellow is
simply the sun seeping through my window? xD)
Even if I despise
calling my long-time hobby a talent, much
more when people call me talented, I
think I’d like to call myself unique.
I think it suits me better that way. Maybe if
I follow this path of literary madness, it might lead me somewhere. I
don’t really know where, but I’m sure it’ll be awesome. Because if you follow
your heart, the journey may be perilous and others may call it foolish, but you
know... that in the end, you’ll be right where you belong, and it could truly
make you happy.
Keep on following
your passion, dream, wish, goal in life. :)
Keep on living, loving and learning~
And don’t stop! ;)
Awesome blog post inspired by: http://writersrelief.com/blog/2015/02/falling-love-writing-rekindle-flame/
Thank you so, so, so much! I couldn't have done it without you guys.
