I write when I feel emotionally intensified like being extremely sad. I can’t seem to write the word melancholic because it seems it would take a long time to subside. My feelings usually last for one or two days only, after that I can be my myself again, a positive thinker, who feels happy inside-out, a diligent laborer striving to learn something everyday and a dreamer. Looking back, I would always have a journal to write bits and pieces of my thoughts and feelings because having a laptop then was way too expensive for my parents to afford. It was a simple 30 leaves notebook with very huge lines like the ones in the 1st grade. That wasn’t too long ago, though.
When I was in my high school years, i dreamed of having a lot of books. I studied in a remote coastal area gratefully raised by my Grandparents in a rural area of Southern Philippines, Mindanao. My classes end at 5pm and together with my friends we would walk home passing by the public library of tiny but untroubled municipality. I recall my amusement of the hardbound books I found there particularly the Grolier encyclopedia with such shiny and colorful pages. I was charmed and dreamed of having one. I am not claiming to be a voracious reader but I just have this urge of possessing books even until now. We would come to the public library for research and homework now and then until I came across this three books bundled in a box. It was a thesaurus a book of proverbs and a dictionary. All I can remember was the red hardbound proverbs book. It contained very inspiring lines that I wrote them alphabetically in a notebook so I can read it because I have to return the book after a day of borrowing it so other students can take it from the shelf as well. Since then, I wanted to write.
There is an inexplicable joy in writing for me. Discovering the things that I want to write about is the most challenging part of this attempt. I know I have so many things to learn about it. Indeed, it is challenging but I know it is worth the while.