As of this writing, I am approaching 2012 in less than two hours. So this will be my first and last post for this year. Outside, noise is abound and very welcoming; tiny glows take the dark sky to dance as people stood below in quiet joy. It inspired me to do the same. So now, I am breaking the yearlong silence – and thank goodness that I still have a voice.
It was my sister who first told me that I can write, and it was the first time also that I decided to become a writer. I was twelve. Years before that, I had always wanted to become an artist. Sadly, I had no talent to paint and I can’t even draw a human face. I didn’t know anything else to do, so ever since my sister told me that, I made a conscious change of plan. I didn’t know personally any writer. I have always viewed it as a unique profession reserved to those who know a lot of words. So I learned a lot of words especially the unfamiliar ones, and I use a lot of them in my writing just to make an impression. Later I joined the school paper and was assigned to the Features Department. There, I met and became friends with a girl who would become my editor-in-chief come Senior year. Through her I discovered that writing is not about being wordy, but about unpretentious expression. I, learned, too, that writing is not just about information, but also about articulation of thought to form an opinion. I still hold on to those lessons up to this day. Enter college and, obviously I enrolled in Communication. From there, I learned to develop my writing and to give it a heart. I took interest in a lot of things and associated myself with it on a deeper level so that I could write about it as if it were me. My writing really took flight and I was noted for it. But it also gave my pride a room to grow dangerously. I thought I was better than anyone else because I was the only one serious about it, until I met others who shared the passion with me. We didn’t convene as a support system. But it was nice to see another person committed to the same dream as I.
I started blogging when I was sixteen. I didn’t have a plan, just an urge to share my expressions. I didn’t expect that with words I could connect with a handful of readers on a higher level. I didn’t know that I was already inspiring someone, influencing some, intriguing others, and providing the rest with something to use their time with. It was rewarding.
The last time I wrote something, it was a comment on a blog post that caught my interest. The last time I really wrote something, it was a post made up of broken sentences. I officially became just a reader.
Why did I ever stop writing? It’s not that I actually stopped, I just shelved it. Maybe I was diverted by a new interest. Maybe I just allowed my other passions to grow. Between discovering, familiarizing and mastering foreign fields, I always knew that I will go back to writing. Or maybe I’m just plain lazy. Or I don’t have anything interesting to share. Or I think myself too small a writer against the widely-read ones. But my first love above writing is the story, so I know that nothing is story-less. And no matter what, my story is mine and my own; so I have nothing to lose – in fact, I have something to offer. Maybe I lost my readers already. And I’m doubtful that I could ever form a niche. But maybe I was simply scared to find out if my writing has any worth, and amidst the roaring storm of “status updates” and tweets that’s overcrowding the general attention of readers, my words won’t penetrate, let along be noticed. But I know that a fan is not always a fan, and a follower is not always following, but I know and I am sure that a reader is still reads whenever, wherever, regardless of how they came to be. I believe that someone will find time to visit this blog, and another will give his/her dedication to devour the contents that I present, be it accidental or intended.
Maybe the reason are all those things. Or maybe none at all. But I am back now, and it’s what matters. A year of silence passed by and it ends right now. The coming year looks promising and I won’t disappoint. Like the fireworks outside, I’ll welcome and join with the noise. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll shoot to darkness and then burst. And as my glow lights spread, you’re there watching. Happy New Year!