Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Overcoming and Beating My Version of 'Writer's Block'


Hello, world. It’s been a while. I don't know if anyone is out there, if anyone is listening, watching, reading, if anyone is kind or sane enough to stumble into my little pocket of sunshine that is this blog, if anyone is even interested or ever interested, or if there's going to be a soul who gets to read my thoughts and what I write or will write, but I feel like I owe it to myself to write, something, anything, so I will give it my best shot. Regardless if no one is ever going to read this, I will write, something, anything, out of zilch, out of pure interest or curiosity, because I feel that I am destined to write, even if I don’t get anything from it.

Not that introductions are necessary, but, Hi! I am Nin, a 22 year-old dreamer and wanderer from the Philippines. I assume that you are inclined with your World History and Geography and that you read or watch the news so yes, I am from that country oftentimes belittled in western TV series or broadsheets for the typical third-world judgments, but let me remind you: I am not my country and I am not my people's history or economy. I am a Filipino, despite my lack of affinity to the Malay race from which we are said to have descended from. I may have dark hair, big dark brown eyes, but I don’t have a flat nose and my skin is fair enough to pass as Chinese or Japanese. I am a Filipino and despite what people say and think about us, I am damn proud to be one.

Professionally speaking, you can find me hauling an 8-hour shift a day in a hospital, caring for people I hardly know, sweating so much to not even earn half of just about what I worked hard work and deserve. I am in no position to complain as I am in the far bottom of the food chain. I cannot remember the last time my feet didn’t hurt or when I said I am not tired when I got home, but I love what I do and as cliché as it may sound, I can get away with it just as long as I am being appreciated for it.

Realistically speaking, I don’t even know why I am at the bedside when I have always imagined myself as the boss, the doctor who gives out orders and not the one who carries them out. I don’t know yet. I haven’t figured it out yet. To go or not to go to a Med School isn’t really my question now, but why. And just to give you an idea of how confused and driven I am, I also wanted to go to a Law School but one thing I cannot deal with is dishonesty, so without a qualm, I stashed my dreams of being a lawyer in a tiny, tattered John Grisham novel somewhere in my shelf, and yet sometimes I see that book opening itself right in front of me.  

I know you have a story as to why you keep a blog or why you write and you probably have been writing all your life as well. As for myself, I grew up reading – a lot. The interest in writing didn’t spark until I was in third of fourth grade when I’ve read the first book that made me cry, weep even. I used to write competitively in high school and college, some of which I have won, some I have learned from, and I was privileged enough to edit my high school and college paper, something I took to escape what I perceived to be 'filthy' school politics. In the realm of a pen and behind the glare of publicity, I have found my niche, and I have found my way to lead and be a rolemodel.

From then on, I’d always ask my mom or my sister to buy me pretty notebooks so I can write my thoughts, doodle, and just catharsize. I hardly call it a diary and the idea of keeping a diary repulses me since I feel like I am obliged to write even if I do not want to. This blog will pretty much be like that. A notebook. Not a diary. A virtual notebook where I can scribble my thoughts, my current flavor, my mood, my present, my future, and maybe if it didn’t hurt so much then, even my past. I may jump into the bandwagon and even pen some reviews, opinions, and whatsnot, and get criticized at that. I warn you though. It’s been weeks, months since I came up with something. I may commit literary horrors and the common grammatical mistakes that even the simplest of it can bring you to the edge of your seat but I assure you: I want to learn and be taught, as I write my story, any given story, anything that is worth writing about, so your thoughts are highly likely to mold me. A few of you will like what I have here, some will hate it or won’t even give a damn about it. But I wouldn’t care as much because like I said in the beginning of this post – I will write, something, anything, because I feel that I owe myself this little much.

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