Finally, after a five-month (?) hiatus, I worked up the courage to blog again. You may say how I make it sound like a scary thing but it really is….well at least for my anxiety-ridden, perfectionist ass that is 😛
Anyway, I’m about to turn 25 and I can’t say I enjoy the thought of turning 25. When I was a teen, I though 25 as being way old…like 40-something old. I’m not even exaggerating. Most 25-year-old people I knew then are married, have kids, promoted into managers in their line of work or have settled down abroad.
Meanwhile, here I am, having achieved none of these things. And I can’t shake off that dismal thought that I’ll still be ranting about this when I’m about to turn 26, or turn 30, or 45. In this point in time where everything you could do or what you couldn’t do are chronicled in the internet and social media, the pressure to be successful in the eyes of the world just got more intimidating.
But enough about that! At the bright side of things, let me share some exciting news. I finally have my own website! I’m still in the process of moving my old blog entries to the new one so it’s still a bit clutter-y at this point.
Anyway, feel free to check it out!
I’ll still keep this blog active especially now that I have several projects in mind. I will probably keep this around until my 30+ years old and I’m still crying about how unfair the world is 🙂
So after a two-month hiatus, I finally decided to add a post. I’ve been meaning to update my blog for goodness knows long but there’s this one big wall that’s pressing against my face and I can’t find my way around it.
The wall is coated with black, ugly letters written in blood and grime. Everytime I blink, the words seemed to grow bigger and thicker until I cannot erase the image in my mind and I’m so overwhelmed by the message that all the ideas and thoughts I was hoarding in my brain were flushed down the drain.
“YOU HAVE NOTHING TO WRITE ABOUT”
Really, how many times did we ever think of this? I guess most writers, from the budding ones to the veterans, have to struggle with that little voice in their heads. Words like “This is not worth writing about” or “This pathetic excuse of a writing” would always float above our consciousness until the droplets of doubt and insecurity accumulate into an angry, ominous cloud which rains down our enthusiasm and vigor until we’re left feeling nothing.
To top it all that, we have to lead two lives. One that is rooted to the reality of paying bills, earning enough for the family, running ahead of the rat race, expanding our social circle and business networks, taking our families or partners to a date, finishing our masters degree and working hard for a promotion. Mundane stuff. We have responsibilities and we cannot just push it all away as easily as we push our laptops, papers and pens away.
The other world is something we created by our own. Here, we dream our biggest dreams and deal with our nightmares, our fears. We thread on that thin line between striving for it and losing it. Our imagination can only go as far as we allow it to go. We escape into this world oftentimes but staying too long, as comforting as it sounds, is dangerous.
So to deal with that, we create a pathway between these two worlds. We weave our feelings and thoughts into words. Our experiences, the people we meet, the failures and milestones, are mulled over in our heads until we immortalize these into words, stories, anecdotes, into art. We often get the inspiration from the real world. Anything we find memorable, happy or sad, gets into the paper.
During my two months of hiatus, I learned that I don’t necessarily need to experience a big change, or a life-changing moment in the real world, to inspire my writing. It was a miserable two months, and everyday I was consumed by guilt over my lack of enthusiasm and self-hate for not ‘truly living enough’. I learned that it’s so easy to hate yourself, that it’s so easy to trap ourselves in the world we created and to hide behind the words you kept so close to yourself. I learned that this is the biggest mistake you could ever do in your life, in your two lives.
And so, I’m returning to this blog, chipping away the big, bad wall. Behind that, I know I’ll face heavy downpour but I’ll persist and plow my way up..or down. It doesn’t matter as long as I reach the place where I wanted to be. Where I can find inner peace with myself and accept the fact that life doesn’t figure itself out right in your face.
But despite the randomness and craziness of it all, remember that there is always something worth writing about.