WRITING

I remember when I was in highschool, I do love to create love stories in my previous year's notebooks. Those notebooks that are barely been used and still have many empty leaves that awaits me to write on them. The hobby started when I was young and I tried to create an adventure story I think this was way back when I was 12 years old or perhaps 10. I really don't remember that much but the passion kicked in when my friend started creating comic books. She has the talent in drawing and we (her classmates/friends) are the ones who have the first glimpses of these creations. However, this comic books have been long lost, just like the hobby of her creating it. Everyone seems to outgrown stuff that they became passionate about in highschool but some evolves these hobbies into something more which, like, my friend has long been graduated from fine arts.

Though in my case, I must confess that I did not outgrown this hobby nor convert it into something much more than a hobby. Me thinks that maybe I am wrong to take up my course during college but then again, what must happen... must happen for me to get to where I am today. I am happy. In my opinion I am successful because I have achieve what I need to accomplished. The path that I should have is actually the path I am walking on.

However, my soul still thrieves for what my heart longs for. I may have tried to forget this passion of mine but still until now this hobby, this passion is creeping thru my system and waiting for it to be released. I tried to disregard the hunger that I felt over the years of not being able to write my stories. The emptiness of not writing was actually the empty feeling that leads to depression. I thought the reason why I felt depress was because I am dissastisfied with my life but no, the emptiness comes from the passion that I am suppressing. I just recently realize that writing was and is always my first love. Even if this is not my bread and butter it still is my love. Unleashing creativity in writing was something theraupatic for me, something to which I needed after a long day of work. This thing is cathartic for me, this thing is an escape. Whenever, I start to play with words, my heart sings.... my demeanor changes, I transform into someone that I know for a long long time. I became contented. I became peaceful. I know deep inside this is what I am meant to do. And for such I long time I deprieve myself of this happiness and now, I am trying to follow my heart one heartbeat at a time...