And it hit me like a lightning bolt-- I am, and always have been, a writer.
I remember writing short love stories in grade school. I moved on to poetry a few years later. Then I moved back to short stories, calling them "moment stories", as they always just focused on a single moment, like time went on slow motion just to capture that unique moment in time.
Beyond the creativity, I have always turned to writing to express how I feel. I kept journals on my darkest days, and a diary as early as first grade. I have always liked to document my life and I try to make sense of my life by writing things down.
I kept good notes throughout schooling. I understand things better when I read them, remember better when I've written it down.
It all seems so clear now, that the past few years have meant I have somewhat lost my way. Instead of writing, I ended up in a PR job. Granted, it has helped me become a more well-rounded individual, forcing my introverted self to come out of my shell and learn the art of small talk and building relationships. That particular job also helped me move beyond writing as a medium and learn about the over-all art of storytelling--which, I realize now, has also been a recurring theme in my life. After all, how many times have I uttered the words, "Kwentuhan mo ako" or "May kwento ka?" or "Anong kwento?"
I have gotten even more lost now in this current job. Why did I not realize earlier that I have always been a reluctant leader? That I dreaded working with a team because of all the personality clashes and power struggles? That I am much more content working on my own than telling people what to do-- how many times have I been hurt by the accusation that I am too bossy, too much of a know-it-all?
Truth be told, I have no desire to work my way up any kind of ladder. I would be willing to give all of this up to be able to do what I really want to do, which is write. And travel, if I could. But reality sets in and I realize that in order to secure my future, to build the kind of life that I want for myself and my future family, I need the money. And this job allows me to earn enough of it.
Now I realize why I have been feeling dead inside-- because I have not been writing. It has been a very long time since I wrote anything. In my past job, I wasn't really writing; I was churning out requirements. It was all technical, clinical, nothing that came from my heart. Now I am faced with the challenge of waking up my sleeping heart, dusting off the dormant writing skills, and basically start living again.
I have said it time and again as I try to start yet another blog. That this time I will keep at it. This time, I will write. Yet it never happens. Now I have an idea why-- because blogging always presupposes that I have an audience. At the back of my mind, I am thinking of what would be interesting for people to read. And when I think about my life and realize that there isn't really anything interesting to share with others, ideas die and blog entries never materialize.
Now, I am writing for myself. I am writing whatever comes to my mind, no matter how incoherent or insignificant it may be, no matter how long the blog entries get (after all, my thoughts are forever running and merging into new thoughts). The point is not to entertain others, not even to entertain myself. The point is to wake that sleeping side of me, that side of myself that has always been waiting in the sidelines while I lose my life to being a corporate slave.
This blog isn't really for you, whoever is choosing to read this. It's really a road map on my journey home to my real self. It's simply for me.
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