Looking Back
I’m not busy. I’m hanging and waiting for my 8-hour shift to end. I’m just doing small document-related works, do some little research, and 90% of my day were spent on blog writing, blog reading, blog hopping.
Just to pass out time, I flipped through my older posts and was surprised that I’ve written a lot of entries without even realizing that I did. And so I’ve read. I’m happy to realize after all this time that I was exposed to technical works, I still have this gift of writing.
Way back when I was still in high school, I always kept journals of my day to day life. These were compilations of my emotions about love, about how I cope up with my teenage life, first love and crushes. About my family. Reactions to any political situations. I even dreamed of becoming a writer someday, thought of taking up degree in Mass Communication and I end up taking a computer-related course instead, ironic! I even dared writing a tagalog pocketbook when I was in my fourth year. I almost finished it. I was already on the last chapters of the ‘unfinished book’ when I lost the inspiration to write. I remember when I was lying flat on the floor with a pen on my right hand and a dictionary on my left hand, I would flip through pages of the dictionary to search for the right words to say. I don’t have a personal computer then. But my drive to write something push me to look into the dictionary word per word, literally. When I looked into something, even if it’s just the swaying branches of trees, swaying leaves and when I heard the hushing sounds of wind, it was easy for me to think of something to write. I was able to draw inspiration from anything, anytime and anywhere. And yes, of course, the intensity of the inspiration varies. When I was in love and very hopeful, I was able to write a poem, and I could spend days on writing one very long entry that only talks about love, that was the time when I felt like I was pouring out my emotions. However, that was rare. I can say that I was intensely inspired that time. When I went to college and eventually got a job, it feels like I am out of the dream world, I am out of the shell that was used to be my ‘comfort zone’, I am into the open space. And ironic because, when I was already in the open space my other world is closing in, my mind with free flowing ideas before seems like malfunctioning, feels like it was restrained. I don’t know maybe because before I was young and care-free. And I believe in everything. And the world that I live in is beautiful despite of its flaws. Now that I’m getting older it seems like my blind sights are open yet I could not draw inspirations from what I’ve seen. And when I think of something, it all jumbles in my head. Thoughts about pressures, stress, problems intensifies and overlaps it. My gift has not been put into use, it was kept there in my head. However, I never lost it. And I’m happy knowing it was still there. Laying and waiting and it wakes up whenever the right inspiration comes in.
About my journal when I was in high school? I still have it. The papers are already torn and the writings are somewhat blurry. After I gain years of age, I would surely open it, read it again and again, and I will just smile… looking back to all the memories contained in each word.
Just to pass out time, I flipped through my older posts and was surprised that I’ve written a lot of entries without even realizing that I did. And so I’ve read. I’m happy to realize after all this time that I was exposed to technical works, I still have this gift of writing.
Way back when I was still in high school, I always kept journals of my day to day life. These were compilations of my emotions about love, about how I cope up with my teenage life, first love and crushes. About my family. Reactions to any political situations. I even dreamed of becoming a writer someday, thought of taking up degree in Mass Communication and I end up taking a computer-related course instead, ironic! I even dared writing a tagalog pocketbook when I was in my fourth year. I almost finished it. I was already on the last chapters of the ‘unfinished book’ when I lost the inspiration to write. I remember when I was lying flat on the floor with a pen on my right hand and a dictionary on my left hand, I would flip through pages of the dictionary to search for the right words to say. I don’t have a personal computer then. But my drive to write something push me to look into the dictionary word per word, literally. When I looked into something, even if it’s just the swaying branches of trees, swaying leaves and when I heard the hushing sounds of wind, it was easy for me to think of something to write. I was able to draw inspiration from anything, anytime and anywhere. And yes, of course, the intensity of the inspiration varies. When I was in love and very hopeful, I was able to write a poem, and I could spend days on writing one very long entry that only talks about love, that was the time when I felt like I was pouring out my emotions. However, that was rare. I can say that I was intensely inspired that time. When I went to college and eventually got a job, it feels like I am out of the dream world, I am out of the shell that was used to be my ‘comfort zone’, I am into the open space. And ironic because, when I was already in the open space my other world is closing in, my mind with free flowing ideas before seems like malfunctioning, feels like it was restrained. I don’t know maybe because before I was young and care-free. And I believe in everything. And the world that I live in is beautiful despite of its flaws. Now that I’m getting older it seems like my blind sights are open yet I could not draw inspirations from what I’ve seen. And when I think of something, it all jumbles in my head. Thoughts about pressures, stress, problems intensifies and overlaps it. My gift has not been put into use, it was kept there in my head. However, I never lost it. And I’m happy knowing it was still there. Laying and waiting and it wakes up whenever the right inspiration comes in.
About my journal when I was in high school? I still have it. The papers are already torn and the writings are somewhat blurry. After I gain years of age, I would surely open it, read it again and again, and I will just smile… looking back to all the memories contained in each word.
Filed under:
Inspirational Thoughts,
Reminiscing Yesterday
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