Pen. Paper. And my mind. I’m READY-I will be an author.
I used to hide under our window curtains that offers a big space for my small body when I am writing. Not that it’s my comfort zone but because my mom will scold me again if she’ll see what I am doing. She don’t want me writing. I understood her for she explained to me that I am wasting my pen and my paper. I should save it for school lectures. But I was disobedient-and I thank myself for that.
My passion bought me to places I’ve always wanted to be. An escapade to the reality of cruel humans around us. I want to fly. I want to cast spells and ride dragons and be free. I was so thirsty with fountains of chocolates and tons of cheese. I was a daydreamer so I wrote them all. To hide all my stuffs from my mom, I showed her my lecture notes, leaving the part of where my short stories were written, and let her see how diligent I am in taking notes. I’ve been praying that she’ll somehow be supportive in my writing but she never did until I connected it to my academics.
I joined the Press Conference when I was in grade school where writers were trained to pen news, editorial, feature and essay. My mom was grateful I did it and she forgot that this was the thing I’ve been hiding from her since the world began. And that was when I told myself that I will be a great author.
Time passed and reality became more cruel and I have to remind myself what I really want so as to go back to the track. My writing interest became a competition that I write not because I want to but I have to. That’s when passion turned into an obligation. Also, competition holds a winner and a loser and I cannot win all the time and well, I just gave up.
But when it’s in your blood, it will keep on running all around your system as long as you’re breathing. My hands become itchy every time I want to pen something or an idea pops out from nowhere. I can’t help it. Seeing myself sitting beside the road and watching the world passing me, I write from them. From how the girl looks at the cute guy over the canteen to the beautiful lady whose simply walking down the silent hill with her head down, checking her inbox. Short stories to novels went pouring in but I can’t finish them all. Again, I stopped and went to reading.
I finished lots of books and can’t stop myself from reading almost everything. It’s like getting into the world I used to dream and indulging myself to the demands of creative minds-I love it! I skip meals, sleep late and miss friend dates just to finish whatever’s open on my table or in my phone or tab. I was an addict. Then my head started to pound, my eyes became blurry and my sister was kind of an antagonist. I was abusive that health was put at risk. Again, I stopped.
I don’t know when and where will I stop from doing things and start all over again and again. But there’s one thing I am sure-I love literature and I will do everything, at all cost, to pursue my dream of becoming an author. I will publish a book and make it a best seller. I will inspire the young writers to keep on writing amid the scarcity of time and resources. Even if the world is against it, true passion will ooze from deep within and making you who you are.
I am taking Sanitary Engineering but I see no reason why I can’t do both things-computing and writing. I will make my father proud by finishing my engineering profession and at the same time, I am will satisfy my desire by following my passion.
I swear, I will be an author.