Paper-and-Pen-Person

If I tell people these days that I was once an introvert (and somehow, I still am), they would barely believe me. But the truth is I was (or I am). Anyway, as an introvert, I have always found writing is the most beautiful escape.

I started crafting stories ever since I can remember. But I didn't craft stories to lie, I mean I wrote stuff out of my imagination. Yes, that awesome kid I once was. Oh, I think that the younger me was way craftier and way more imaginative. Actually, it was until I was in third year or fourth year high school? I was always in ecstasy for words in my head to be said. There has always been something to say. Words had always been present. I never ran out of them. I actually consider my hands to have its own brain, because once my pen started, it won't stop, and it just won't stop, it writes things I didn't think I was thinking.

BUT there is a but, there is a secret. The poems I wrote, the stories I started writing, my creations--they were for my eyes only. I was always the best of my writer side when I am within the walls of my own world. When I write, say for a contest, I "stutter" (if there's such a thing in writing). The worst I've written so far were my contest pieces. Haha. High school stuff though. When I read my past creations, I can't believe I made them, I mean I think I don't remember being so sentimental and so... romantic. Haha. I don't say I have award-winning closet pieces, I am just saying that they're the best of me, haha and they may be trash for others but my younger artsy is a treasure in my memory, no matter how other people may view them.

Anyway, the art walls I have been building sort of postponed its construction when I entered college, and when I've got so into the internet. Before, I didn't even care about the stuff in the world wide web. When our teachers would ask our hobbies and my classmates would say "surfin' the net", I know I got only one phrase practiced as response "reading and writing". But because these things around me eat my time and my attention, I slowly drifted away from my passion, I slowly drifted away from words.

I write, yes, but when I find time to.

But the writing workshop I attended woke my hibernated passion up. The workshop was like telling me "Hey, you have always loved words. Come on, write." Haha.

I loved the idea that we writers are writing to voice out our voice! To give people a window's view through our eyes, to show something and not just to tell! :) 

These are among the things that I've learned from the workshop. The speaker (Rei Crizaldo) also said that if we were born writers, when we write, we are at a closest possible space we could be with God. And that goes for those who were born dancers when they dance, singers when they sing, speakers when they speak, etc etc. And I'd like to believe that I was born a writer (sige, iassume na lang), and that the fountain of words flowing through my hands are purely unstoppable!

As an action point for this, I'd like to truly take writing as a profession, that I'd find a non-negotiable time for it everyday. That I write what I want to say, and that I won't write just because I need to say something. I will write because the words are outflows of the exceeding emotions in my heart. Oh yeah. I am gonna take this seriously, you bet. 

I just wanna quote these lovely words by Sylvia Plath:

(via)

Live your passion and be glad with life! :)