Tag Archives: writer

Published

I’ve written countless words in my young lifetime. And sometimes I wonder if it all mattered. I mean if a tree falls down in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound?

I can’t begin to answer such a heavy question. But I believe all this behind-the-scene writing have helped me improve my skill with words. Scribbling behind the shadows, in this quiet side of the Internet, have rendered my backbone enough boldness to stand and knock at the world’s door.

And the world opened its door on me, even just for a brief moment. It gave me a quick glimpse, enough to validate my existence as a writer. It gave me a quick glance what of I could be in this industry. But more so, it made me realize my flaws and uncharacteristic literary habits. It showed me the long road ahead.

I was published.

I was beyond elated. And if I never write a single word again, I can look back and still claim that I was a writer. But I’d like to think that I’ve been this, without any need of publication- I am a writer.

Even if this little accomplishment was made possible by a local community newspaper. This is a start, and I’m on my way now. And even when it gets rough along the way, I will remember that it’s the process that is most fun. The destination is merely a consolation, but I’m aiming for the clouds still.

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Brighter Side / Twilight by Ben Howard

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All that I have been doing in my life has lead me to this…

I am an artist.

I can make things. And that’s quite powerful in its own regard.

I used to think that I was just an aspiring writer, I had the simple ability to piece together words to derive meaning. I thought I was just a casual photographer that loved urban cityscape and subtle portraits. I never heard the power of my own spoken word, the influence it holds in a single breath.

Then I came to the realization that…

I am an artist.

I choose my words meticulously, like I choose my friends; I use metaphors and methods to extend the meaning of my musings. I write with sheer purpose and passion like it’s a calling. And my words slash and heal, even though I’m in practice of wielding it.

I have keen eye for design. I see structure and symmetry. My pictures are beyond pre-meal snapshots and shameless selfies. I am not bound by the the frame of the viewfinder, instead I break the rules to enhance images. Instagram has become more than just a gallery of everyday pictures but a reflection myself and my city.

I have started to learn the power of my voice and the power of it. I speak my words with flow and rhythm; emphasis and sheer confidence; control and clarity. My voice asks the critical questions and addresses the details. And I hear it even if you don’t.

I know I have lot more to go through in this artistic journey. But it all starts with this realization.

I am an artist.

SOTM: Never Let You Down by Kanye West feat. Jay Z and J. Ivy

 

Artist

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2 Years

Been a while. But I’ve always been here.

This blog has been nonexistent for a while.

No words. No sentences. No paragraphs. No narration. No dialogue. No gestures. No details.

But all the while I’ve been learning about each element. I have been collecting stories and realizations. I have been working on myself, as a writer, artist and friend. All this time, I have been here, behind the screen.All this time I have been committed to this humble blog, as I am committed to my words.

I’ve been waiting for the perfect time to share to the Internet what I’ve been through. And perhaps, now is the most opportune time.

But for now, I will bask in my little achievement of reaching the 2 year mark.

And for those of you who have read my midnight musings in this silent side of the Internet- thank you. I got nothing but love for all of you.

SOTM: Without by Sampha

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A Case Of Post-Euphoric Writing Syndrome

Summer is a great time for many things: running around, basking in the sun, eating out, sleeping late, catching up on some reading. But never writing.

As a young writer, I’ve always felt that writing comes natural to me in mundane moments of slight melancholy. I don’t mean to be morbid. But writing in a pensive mood allows me to focus on life with greater clarity, and it is not the case that I only perceive sad realities. In fact, I am able to recollect a major extent of my happiness and make sense of it.

It’s in the banal state of mind that I find the right words.

I had a conversation with a friend of mine last summer about how it’s like to write, and we shared the same sentiments about writing while happy. We both concluded on the latter.

Don’t write in the middle of all the happiness.

Happiness is distracting, and that’s not a bad thing at all! The point is to completely immerse yourself in the distraction. When you are happy, stay with it until it decides to fly away. It’s better to write about happiness than be absent in its presence. All those words can wait, but happiness is a rather impetuous fellow. Go out with your friends. Play video games. Sweat a little. Eat a lot and drink a few. Be happy until you’re not anymore. It’s perfectly fine if you don’t remember most of it, what is important is that you were.

That’s why I am lacking blog posts this summer, I was happy.

But now is the time to write again.

đŸ™‚

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Icarus by Bastille

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Perks Of A Stranger

Sometimes, I think it’s better if you don’t know me..

You see, there is a certain danger to familiarity. Once the veil is lifted, there is only you. Vulnerable.

Easy to figure out. Susceptible to request. Likely to pardon.

“Put your best foot forward”. So they say. People like to put on their best faces, when they meet others for the first time. I do too. But what I’ve come to notice as they start to know you, is they start to loosen up. And soon, when you’re ready, they start to wear their own skin. Naked.

And when you see them as they are, the rough edges of their personalities unveiled; unashamed anymore of who they are. All of this, you have to accept but without any consent. All the things that you don’t know and don’t want to know about them are all suddenly on the table..

But strangers, they are safe. The cloud of mystery in which the hide behind protects them from the monster underneath the skin of a person. The feeling of the unknown makes people careful of what they say or do, aware of how they act; a sense of intimidation that comes with unfamiliarity which compels respect.

And in return, they are easy to forgive. They are uncomplicated and easy to get along with. They don’t bring their problems and issues. And neither do you. No one cares too much.

“No strings attached”.

Strangers see good people. Strangers know no good people.

So maybe, you shouldn’t know me.

Maybe..

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Pieces by Mat Simons

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The Beginning

I got a dream, man.

I have a desire to become ‘somebody‘. A person that is molded by knowledge and experience; one that came from scratch like a diamond in the rough, an individual forged by the work ethic and determination. I want to be that kid that came a long way with a humble start; living in his aunt’s basement writing midnight musings about life and, dreams.

I want to be a master of words. Skillfully literal with a sharp tongue but a sharper mind, wielding criticism with compassion like the careful cutting of a scalpel; allowed to kill but able to give life. I want to be sweet and fluent, authentic and true. I want to tame my mouth  like a lion on a leash; mind-control the beast when it wants to devour. I want to be a master of words.

It’s simple a concept. But the process is long and tedious.

And.

It.

Starts.

Now.

SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Excellent by Propaganda

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