Sunday, April 1, 2012
A writer. Who? Me?
Receiving compliments about my writing has always been
awkward. I never know how to respond. A ‘thank you’ sounds too forward; dismissing
it seems hypocritical. Most of the time, I move swiftly to another topic and
avoid any chance of this blog ever being brought up.
I already wrote about my dream of being a lawyer. I
shamelessly wrote about my goal of becoming a partner of a firm. Both are now
safely locked into the ‘not for me’ dreams chest. But about becoming a writer?
No, I don’t think I ever admitted that.
Being a writer has always been a distant ambition. I
graduated with a degree that is too technical we are required to pass a
government exam before practicing it. I belong in a field that mainly requires
the use of intellect and logic, and religiously abiding by the rules. No offense
to my colleagues but, sometimes, it can get really boring.
Writing saves me from the humdrum of everyday grind.
I don’t know if this is worth a space in the vast and
judging place that is the world wide web, but I am making it known now:
I want to be a
writer. I want to write something worth reading. I want to collect words, tie
them in a string and put it around everyone’s wrists, so they can feel me with
every beat of their pulse.
I want to be a writer. Not necessarily a celebrated one. I just
want to write and create and pour my heart out and let words drip out of my
fingertips. And when someone calls me a writer, not even compliment me but just
label me with that word, I don’t want to shy away.
Yes, that last one; I would love that.
# posted by Liana : 8:00 AM
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