In my mind, I always wanted to be a writer, I can be a writer but… there is always a BUT. But was I good enough? I have talented writer classmates but how do they do it? How can I do it? What will I write about? Who will read it?
I was in my first year in high school when my English teacher, and I remember him vividly when he told me I should join the school paper training. Days and weeks had passed even if I wanted to I wasn’t able to. To train means it was costly and it was not in school and I have to go home probably late. So what did i do about it? i continued with my usual routine, write diaries or journals every now and then as part of the course requirement. I remembered in my elementary days even if I was on summer breaks I used to write on my diary daily. I write not just about things that happened with me and with whom that day but I get to write my feelings and emotions so they called it through poems, short poems to be exact. I think I had a diary book a food cart owner gave me. I liked that diary book, it had a lot of blank pages and seemed to be posh for a simple girl like me. It was like a pocket book. Also, I did all the stuffs that a student was required to write since grade one to college: home reading journals, I don’t have a clue what I’m reading about; essay, we were taught parts of the paragraph; critic and reaction papers, we were given guide questions or topics to go through it; and the list goes on. My poems? A few got published. Well my best friend was an editor in chief in high school, she asked me and I delivered and it ended there and so I thought. Do you remember the time when Facebook wasn’t still around and Friendster was still in. Yes` my friends, FRIENDSTER. I used to write my short poems in there until it was gone.
And yet, here I am again. Still restless at some nights until my thoughts become words and my words become readable for anyone. My writing dilemma doesn’t end here it’s just beginning. And so my fellow aspiring writers who wants to be heard, now is the time. It’s never too late.