confession

it took me more than nine years to finally have the courage to write this letter. in truth, i should have done this the day you treated us out to snacks just before our high school graduation. but i haven't got the courage then; afterall, sixteen is fairly young to say what I would like to say back then.

i do not know where i borrowed the courage now. i claim to have learned a lot of lessons through the years. and through those, i've learned that i am strong and brave, and that there is no subtitute for the truth.

maybe it is in knowing that you are leaving the country soon. there is a bit of comfort in knowing that there is that blanket of certainty that i will not bump into you and risk the awkwardness. afterall, this confession is nine years overdue.

maybe it is just now that i have realized that i am ready to take the leap and take flight towards my dreams. and in doing so, i need to free myself from all the loose ends i have had through the years.

or maybe, i just thought that a girly-teenage confession is way passé at our age.

so whatever the reason for this sudden courage may be, i just want to confess that i've been inlove with you in high school. i was inlove with you.

so there, that's the truth that until this time, i never had the courage to admit to anyone. sometimes, not even to myself.

but please don't feel burdened about this in any way. it was never my intention to pass the burden in writing this. i just want to be true to you and to myself.

i wish you the best in everything that you do and to wherever your dreams may take you. soar high. live for your dreams. be happy.

God bless you.

cowardice

dearest,

i claim to own the words sometimes. i claim to know how to use them to tell people how i feel. i claim to have the strength to say the words and bare my heart. in truth, i cannot. for every word that i would like you to read is a piece of my heart. i am not a writer, i do not own the words. but i own my heart.

and right now, i cannot find the right words to borrow to let you know what i feel because in truth, i cannot define it. there's no song for it, but i feel the music.

i will tell you sometime, but until then, i'd go looking for the words until i find them. for they are the only ones that can tell my story.

someday i'll take the leap. someday...

signed: me

on seanachies and word artists

currently transporting favorite entries from my other blog in multiply.

i rarely have the urge to write something that really conveys my thoughts, my feelings and myself. to be honest, i find it scary. i don't know why people would sometimes automatically label me as 'writer' just because they know that i took up mass communications and majored in journalism. in my mind, it won't automatically make you a writer. so when people tell me, "so writer ka" or "writer ka pala", i just shrug or make a facial expression that suits my mood at that moment. i think it conveys my thoughts about the matter clearer than any spoken word.

the thing is, i do not really consider myself a writer. i know most people would argue, especially because i have been known to make a living claiming to be a writer. i write articles, speeches, programmes and scripts and sometimes copyread the written words. i had a stint in maintaining a blog, professionally. but i am not a writer. the above mentioned are things that i do to make a living and it seemed enough for the employers, the ones who pay me to do those things, and the ones who believed that i am indeed a writer. i beg to differ.

my personal definition of a writer is not just someone who writes words. an accountant who does accounting professionally might not consider himself an accountant. it just happened that accounting is what he does for a living. what you say you are should convey a whole lot about you not just what you do to make money. it should be borne out of your passion, your heart and mind, your soul. it is not that something you went to college for. what you went to school for is a formal education. something that we need to get a job and make a living. something that answers the 'occupation' part on a personal data sheet and something that you tell people when they ask you "and you are?..." which of course translates to query about what you do for a living because that would be how people would judge you and assess your worth.

a writer should write for himself first, for others, second. i have not known myself to accomplish the first; and i pass as a writer doing the latter. so when i sometimes forget myself and claim to be a writer, forgive me and just forget about it unless you are a potential employer. it was a slip, and i am probably drugged and delusional at that moment.

i claim to do many things, but for now, i just want to be a storyteller.

comfort food

Okay . . . picture this really) worst-case scenario: It’s cold and raining, your boyfriend/girlfriend has just dumped you, you’ve just been fired, the pile of unpaid bills is sky-high, your beloved pet has recently died, and you think you’re coming down with a cold. All you want to do other than hiding under the covers) is to curl up with a good book, something warm and comforting that will make you feel better.

What do you read?

(Any bets on how quickly somebody says the Bible or some other religious text? A good choice, to be sure, but to be honest, I was thinking more along the lines of fiction…. unless I laid it on a little strong in the string of catastrophes? Maybe I should have just stuck to catching a cold on a rainy day….)

i often find myself reaching out for my comfort books whenever i feel depressed which, i think, constitute some 30 percent of my time.

when i read the question, two books came to mind. they are: charlie and the chocolate factory and harry potter and the sorcerers's stone. i like the writing styles of roald dahl and jk rowling. roald dahl is my favorite author. and though some might argue that the harry potter series is not really a very cheerful lot, i'd still say that harry's story, especially the first one, gives me comfort.

times like that, i'd go for some light reading thus roald dahl's books came to mind. truth is, i don't really mind if the first one that i have grabbed is matilda or the witches, as long as it is one of roald dahl children's classics. the good point about charlie and the chocolate factory is that i can almost smell and taste the chocolates, which in turn will make me grab /buy a chocolate and voila...intant happiness! hahaha...

of course, i don't recommend it if you are on a die-t...

other books i'd recommend:

robert fulghum's books

eoin colfer's artemis fowl series

edward eagers' children's stories

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