Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Snippets From the Past

I opened my inbox just moments ago and there was an email from Tumblr that read: 
Silent Sentences turned 1 today! 

Wait what?

Then I remembered. My second semester of senior year, I started what I referred to less as a blog and more of a journal. I called it Silent Sentences and only gave the link to a select few. Anyway. I started reading and I was pleasantly surprised with myself. Here is one post that especially stood out to me. Is it egocentric that I'm impressed with myself?


Writer {In The Making}
We watched a documentary on F. Scott Fitzgerald in Literature class today, and it got me thinking about how I used to want to be a writer. My young mind thought that somehow I could write something good enough to maybe be published… I used to write all the time when I was homeschooled. I would write short stories and poems and letters. I wrote a lot of letters. Back then, I wasn’t a user of technology. Of course, I was younger back then, but even kids my age had already started having their own phones. I wasn’t part of that advancing world. I wrote letters. And they weren’t your run-of-the-mill “hi, how are you, hope to hear from you soon” kind of letters. Sometimes I wrote 15 pages, over the span of up to 5 days. I’d send a “weekly letter”. It was like an art form.


Writing has always appealed to and intrigued me. One of my favorite films growing up was the Anne of Green Gables series, (which, after watching I would mimic Anne’s lifestyle, including her writing.) I always dreamed of having my own typewriter, because that was the cool thing to have for a writer. Later, it was my own laptop, and I always pictured myself with a leather satchel full of ink pens and perfect writing paper. The actual writing process was a little more tedious than I thought. I have always struggled with inspiration, and once I have it, actually staying inspired proves to be a problem.


I guess I am a writer, of sorts. I’ve written some pretty good essays for school, and one even won me first place in a competition, which I am continuing this weekend. If I continue to win, I’ll win $$ and perhaps a scholarship. I still write letters once in a while, and since I started this blog, twenty-something posts ago, I consider myself a writer in-the-making. It’s a good feeling.

Writing is a way for me to express my thoughts and feelings with no strings attached. It’s not like saying something to someone, or writing a letter. In those cases, you never know who it could offend or affect. Most of the time I don’t care anymore, because I’ve tried to mature enough to be careful about what I say, but everyone slips. Writing is an art form, still, to this day, even with all the technology and the lack of personalization in today’s world. I’m kinda rambling in this post..I didn’t know what else to write about. The point is this: I feel like I’m finally fulfilling my desire to keep writing in my life, and at the same time, I’m recording some special memories and thoughts and feelings at this very crucial point in my life.

So long for now.

 I am a damn darn good writer and I know that when I apply myself, a whole world opens up to me. It's how I cope. Netflix, ice cream and Ed Sheeran can only help so much. What has continuously proved to save me has been the ability to write down my thoughts, hopes, fears, rants, dreams and desires.  What are your thoughts on writing? Does it benefit you in any special way?


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1 comment :

  1. You come by it naturally and exhibit your potential beautifully. I love what you are doing with the blog. Me, your mom, your cousins Nessa, and Dominic, just to name a few in the family have always found writing to be a satisfying tool and God's gift.

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