Thursday, August 4, 2011
Monday, August 1st 2011
It’s been a while since I last wrote. Now isn’t that always the case? It’s always “been a while” since my last whatever but it really has been quite some time since my last. It’s not like I haven’t been writing… I have. But somehow, I save them, all my unfinished drafts hidden in a folder on my hard drive where it will never see the light of day. I don’t know why I don’t publish them, my thoughts, when I know it’d satisfy me to know that there are people out there (like you, right now) taking a few minutes off your daily routine to read on what I have to say here. Well maybe that’s just wishful thinking, maybe no one is reading my dusty, old blog. Maybe I’m just ranting to myself like I always have. In which case, I’m talking to myself right now. Haha. That’s sadly entertaining to me, reading my own useless musings. Posting it here, hoping that someone, somewhere out there would stumble upon my blog and find me interesting, at least interesting enough to want to get to know me and then subsequently keep coming to my blog to find out more about who I am, what I like and what makes me tick. All done not to gain followers or popularity like some of the people I know but to gain self confidence, to (sometimes) be in the spotlight because I guess that’s what matters to someone who writes, regardless of what they’re writing, that even just for a couple minutes, someone out there is reading the words they so carefully or thoughtfully chose to put together, forming sentences they cherish so much as a result of their own creativity.
That’s it. I want to write. I want to write well. I want to tell stories about my life. I want to tell stories about how I wish my life was. I want to write stories for those who can’t write for themselves. I want to write. That is what I want to do with my life. I miss being that person I used to be when I was younger. I used to write so effortlessly. I never cared about how it would turn out or get worried that people would judge my choice of words or analyze my grammatical errors (I was never good at grammar), I just wrote and wrote with such gusto and fire.
It’s not true if I state that I am old because truth of the matter is, I am a young girl with such a long path waiting ahead of me, but in other aspects of (my) life, I am old. I lost my flair; at least I think I have. Friends would tell me that I’m rusty, that I just need to practice, that writing, expressing myself through words is just like riding a bike, “once you start writing again, you won’t stop!” they would say. But it has been a while since I last (properly) wrote something worthwhile and to say that my lack of inspiration has dampened my artistic being would be a tremendous understatement.
I miss writing, I miss writing well, and I miss writing for the sake of writing. Sometimes, it sucks, growing up because you hardly ever get the chance to spread your wings and fly like you once could when you were young and free. Now my wings are confined within chains of responsibilities and constrained under the locks that comes with growing old and truth be told, it really is starting to hurt under this self-made prison that comes with age. So please, dear God, help me. I want my muse. I want to be inspired. I want to express myself. I want to write.