For an hour, I stared at the screen with only 3 sentences typed. I feared that I am having a writer’s clog again. I opened my folder of old writings just to pass the time while my mind is still debating over posting a poem or an essay. The pieces traced back to two years and I must admit most of them, I simply forgot that I even wrote them. Well to put it more accurately, I forgot that I was able to write them. Thoughts that were woven to words like paint on a canvas, I saw a whole gallery of my life experiences. As I read through various works, I laughed, felt a little heartache, wonder why I wrote it and mostly I was pleased. I saw my personal growth with each of my writings. They reflect my opinion about love; work, relationships and the everyday routine I was experiencing back then. I must say, I put them aptly on paper. They say the eyes are the windows of the soul but I think people nowadays can deceive you by the way they look, speak and act. However, writing connotes a different medium. While emotions can be masked, if a person would really take time, he can catch a glimpse of the real persona of the writer. As I continuously write, I impart a little of myself to my readers. It has been a wondrous and trying journey for me as I pen an idea that was born in my head while riding the train, watching passersby, eating my favorite cereal or daydreaming about travelling to the Himalayas. New York City is the perfect muse for me. In the city that never sleeps, I am sure that there will be more than a million little words that I could write to the enjoyment, amusement or even disagreeing taste of readers all over the net. Let’s not forget my fulfillment as a self- proclaimed writer.
In my essays, prose and poetry
I can be a lost person inside
A child in search of a lost toy
Jealous lover, forgiving friend
An opinionated hypocrite
Frustrated dreamer of world peace
Ambassador of provoking thoughts
Unsatisfied human being
A gentle yet gutsy woman
True friend and a nasty foe
Coward with a lion’s heart
In my essays, prose and poetry
My readers can be believers
That in our loss, we can find lessons
To avoid mistakes and still do them
Love ourselves while we aim to be better
That it is alright to be rude when needed
Unforgiving rather than fake a mended bridge
Aspire for equality and think that each gender
Have their perks and advantages
Loners who can find completeness one day
To all my readers of four years
Thank you so much
For pushing me to write
And believe that you actually
Care to read them in your precious spare time J
