I’ve always had random thoughts about random things. I’d save them on my phone’s drafts, then I moved to my twitter drafts until I transferred them all to my word document.
There are points in my life where I have no outlet but to write the words that are too muddled in my mind to say out loud. I would write all that consumes me, that pains me and that occupies me. There were times when I’d stay up all night writing about my heart’s content or moments when I’d just write about anything I see. How a seemingly simple scenario will prompt a deep thought and how I will form words at the back of my mind to explain an existing phenomenon of some sort.
There was more than one instance when I’ve written letters to my parents, compositions about school, tiny stories about myself and maybe misunderstanding with my friends. Heterosexual relationships were nonexistent then but maybe a revelation I need to say is that it was what really prompted me to publish my thoughts. They were consuming me. All too loud and too many. One day I realized that these manipulated words and crafted sentences are good for nothing if I will not let anyone read it, that they will all die with me soon if I just keep it to myself. I’m not entirely confident about my work but I would work on criticisms, if ever I do get one. Feed on them if I must. A “writer” as they say will only grow that way. The only way to learn is to try and try and each time you try, if you must fall, do not be afraid. There may be nothing to catch you but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t learn. Always remember that the world is not cotton candy land. When you started out, nobody ever guaranteed you a soft landing.
I fell down more than once. I don’t think anyone noticed but I was keeping tabs on myself. I didn’t want to feel empty and lost. Growing up with books, I found refuge in words, novels and fictional characters. Until today, I hold on to the hope that there’s something good out there for each and every one of us. I believe that everyone is beautiful on the outside. that although we’re all too clouded with the norms of this society, we’re the same on the inside; made of the same basic skeleton with the same beating hearts and same minds planned for goodness.
Considering myself as a blogger is quite awkward. I have no experience at all and no training even. I guess having a word press account and not being afraid to click the publish button once in a while may mean that, in my own tiny way, I’m a blogger of some sort. My basic knowledge may not be what changes the world but now, it’s what’s changing my life. And if this is what it means to stand up for something, here I am. And if in doing so I garner critiques to judge my every word, I’ll just be watching and wondering why there are people who likes wasting time on such nonsense.