Tag Archive | writer

A Writer’s Solitude

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I’ve noticed that I can’t write whenever I am surrounded by everyone in my family. No, it’s not that I am distracted, it’s more that in the hustle and bustle of life in our household, I can’t find myself. I find it difficult connecting to my inner self. I guess that’s why most writer’s feel the need to be alone when they write. Blessed are those who can still write even with all the activity around them but for me and some writers, we need solitude.

Solitude, I’ve learned, helps me connect with my inner self. The one that helps with my reflective mood, the one that reaches into my soul and helps put pen into paper and come up with something. There’s something in being totally alone that triggers my reflections. It’s like I go inside myself and see the world differently, thus, think differently. I feel like I turn into a completely different person, someone with a contemplative and sensitive soul and I feel like I can write the whole day and still have a billion more to say. What’s good with about this is that, afterwards, I feel refreshed. Like I took a dip into a clear pool and emerged fresh and new. I don’t know about the others but I think solitude has helped me a lot not only with my writing but also mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

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Foodcourt Thoughts

Hi guys! Here’s to another absent-minded rants I have while waiting for my husband at the foodcourt. So, how have you been?

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A writer’s mind is never at rest, it is forever in a marathon. Sprinting, dashing, running – especially at night when everyone is asleep and the world basks in the glow of the moonlight. It is then that the mysterious, charming, and cunning is revealed.

A writer’s mind is always active. The problem is when they suddenly think of something extremely good to write and they can’t write it down immediately because they’re busy with everyday tasks and so it disappears. Like a will-o’-the-wisp it has suddenly vanished, making the writer think that it was just a dream.

The best writing is one that is not forced, not thought about or analyzed is any way possible. The best writing is one that comes straight from the heart. As you close your eyes to feel the rhythm of the music so do you open your heart & let go to feel your emotions. Let all the pain, hurt, sorrow, love, joy, happiness, elation, shock, and surprise flow. Even if it overwhelms you, more so if it scares you. Why? Because it really is scary at first, like letting go of a raft and letting yourself be washed away by the waves to destinies unknown. But that is exactly what great, exceptional writing is – the rawness, heart on the sleeve, almost wide-eyed naïveté that haunts you to the very depths of your soul and arrests your mind. It doesn’t just touch your whole being, it sears you and becomes part of you. That’s what great writing is all about. Find the ability to truly write from your heart. Be one with your self and develop sympathy as well as empathy. Great writing feels and is felt.

Artists – writers, painters, musicians – have the most sensitive souls, the strongest of hearts, and the most philosophical minds. I guess that’s why people find them great and weird at the same time. From the time they have discovered their craft, they have always walked the line between madness and genius, sometimes either the other but almost always both. Largely, it depends on the century they’re living in.

The Muse

You arrive

unexpectedly

catching me

unaware

my senses

becomes

sharpened,

creativity

increases

a

thousandfold;

like

a madman

the pen

swiftly flies

the brush

urgently glides,

the music

rapidly bursts!

 

You leave

abruptly

catching me

off-balance

my energy

suddenly drained;

in the

end

there is

nothing –

nothing

but

a work of art,

nothing

but

a masterpiece.

 

Believe

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As soon as I saw this necklace on Bradford Exchange I knew I had to have it. Not because I am terribly fond of butterflies and flowers but more because of the writing on the back.

All writers know that writing is a hard and lonely road filled with doubts and hopelessness. Yes, writing is a very rewarding task but as with everything it also has its dark days. That is why writers have something they hold on to during those troubled times. Something that will help them keep working on their dream, something that will remind them that giving up is not an option.

This necklace is a way for me to not forget why I write, despite of all the frustrations and setbacks I keep encountering. Whenever I feel myself giving in to self-doubt and giving up I just touch my necklace and remember the words written on the back. I am then reminded that first and foremost, I have to believe in the beauty of my dreams. It may be hard now but one day, this will be all worth it. The keyword is to believe, to believe in ourselves and in our dreams. If not, then nothing remains, all of the things we do will be for naught.

 

My Blog

Since I started my blog, a number of people have sent me messages asking what exactly is my niche. Why is there a lot of categories in my blog? Shouldn’t there be just one category – if it’s poetry then it should all just be poetry, not a smorgasbord of different writing genres. I beg to differ.

My blog is what it is. It is a reflection of who I am, both as a person and as a writer. I had trouble fitting in since I was young, not for lack of trying but I never really got along well with people. I was always the odd one out and the fact that it didn’t bother me that much made me the weird one. I’d be a hypocrite though if I said it didn’t make me sad, of course it did but I did not dwell on it. Just like me, my blog does not and will never fit in. It is the lone wolf-the odd one out. It was created for the sole purpose of sharing my writing, a big part of myself, to the world. And because I enjoy different types of writing then that’s what people now see: articles, poems, random thoughts, essays, short stories, and book ideas.

I guess all I want to say is, if someone passionately loves to write then they shouldn’t limit themselves to just one genre. They can concentrate on poetry or novel writing if that’s what they want but that shouldn’t stop them as well from exploring article writing or short story writing. Kind of like an actor who focuses on making movies but does not shy away from starring in tv shows once in a while or in a theatre play. As a writer, one should also explore every niche to quench one’s imagination and creativity.

I believe that writing as an art form should be freeing, not limiting and in that sense I am proud that my blog reflects my belief even if it does confuse others. As the old adage goes, “Write for yourself”, because only then will you be able to write well 😉

A Bipolar’s Manic Life

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Have you ever been to hell while alive? It’s like waking up from a deep slumber but instead of feeling well-rested, your head is swimming in constant emotional and mental turmoil. It’s being born again with all the misery and hollowness in the world put inside you and you feel like bursting any moment. Your mind is a jumble of mismatched wires and your heart is beating but you feel lifeless.

I have Bipolar II which means I have more manic depressive episodes than high or elevated moods. More often, I sleep the whole day because I feel like my energy has been drained but there are also times when I am restless and can not sit still or stay in one place. There are times when I am overly excited or happy and have grandiose plans regarding my life, and life in general. Other times, I shop compulsively. I am sometimes the most pleasant, enjoyable company you will have, and at others I am the most obnoxious, sarcastic bitch in the room. I am prone to suicidal tendencies and hurting myself. More so to feel something than to deliberately inflict pain on my being. I have Bipolar, not insanity.

Many an article both here in the Philippines and abroad have featured suicides due to depression and others wonder how these people could do it. What on earth possessed them to end their life, to give up just like that? As someone who have thought of killing herself on more than one occasion, I may not be able to speak for everyone but this I know to be true: the misery within, the silent plea for help when we don’t even know if we want it or not, and the conflict between losing & finding ourself  are all too great a burden that all we want to do is end it. End the chaos plaguing us, for it is a plague, a never-ending plague that only settles but never leaves.

Sad to say, only a few people with Bipolar get the much needed support and unconditional love from their family and friends. On my end, I am not criticizing any friends – nor family – I have but they do tend to ignore me when I am in my manic depressive mood. Others even have the gall to ask how I am doing when it is obvious how exactly I feel. I guess it’s because they do not know. They do not have the slightest clue of the conflict I am battling every single moment of my life. They have their depressive episodes but that will be gone in a few days or week while mine stays. It is a constant in my life. Except for my husband, I am almost always left alone where the feelings of guilt and worthlessness magnify into a thousandfold.

In a way I am guilty of my Bipolar blossoming. I nurtured it you see. From the throes of slight depressive episodes until the depths of a dark bottomless pit, I have watered it until it thrived. You ask what made me do it? Not because I wanted to be in the lowest hierarchy of humanity where pity is constantly on its feet but because I am a writer.

As much as I have Bipolar, I am self-aware and it did not take me long to realize that I write a whole hell of a lot better when I am in my manic depressive mood. It is in my darkest, most primeval, and volatile state when I become in charge of all my faculties – literary at least. In these moments, nothing can stand between me and my thoughts. I am then compelled – summoned more like it – to put pen to paper where all my thoughts gush out, like a faucet opened on full power. It is when I write to my full satisfaction where my brain and heart literally race and tumble over words. I do not know how many people with Bipolar experience this but it is during these moments that I am in bliss. I feel like I am me again – no, I AM me again. My pathos is also my salvation.

Some people might think it but no one ever wants to be mentally ill. No one. But it is something I, and a hundred or maybe thousands of people, have to deal with everyday. I have it not because I am weak. I have it not because I have a flair for the dramatics. I have it not because I am pessimistic. I have it simply because I do. It is a fact and nothing can ever change that. The agony, the tiring ups and downs of my emotions, and the constant feeling of drowning and emptiness is mine and mine alone. Understanding Bipolar will take time but if people put in a lot of patience coupled with dedication then one day, the stigma that is Bipolar will be broken. Then, people with Bipolar like me will be seen as caring, strong, and thriving members of our community – not as weak, cry babies with whom others always have to be on edge with.

I can see the light. It is not that I, and the others, choose to be in the shadows. It is because I need my family and friends to make that light reachable for me, especially in moments of anguish. Yes I need help, but sometimes, I still wonder if I really do. I need patience and understanding, not scrutiny and judgments. One day, I know it will happen.