Day 1/30 → It was in elementary school when I first started writing. It was those years when I began keeping a diary — a place where I can be free to share what we then referred to as those “deep, dark secrets”. I was free to wish, free to think, free to feel.
In those years when all I did was scribble words on a piece of paper, I knew myself more. I felt joy, I felt vulnerable, I felt fragile, I felt open, and then after all those, I learned.
The beauty of writing taught me that words aren’t just words — they mean something. And they mean more to me than anything else in this world. There is power in writing, and everytime my almost-always cluttered mind is transformed into written and printed words, I feel infinitely powerful — well, I felt powerful.
I need to go back to that; I need to be feel that powerful again. So here I am, and I will write. My mind is too chaotic and I need to let them out and just let the words flow.
Hence, the birth of my challenge to myself — #30DaysOfWriting. I want to do this — nah, I need to do this. This is my passion, my first love, my rock, and my savior and writing is essentially a part of who I am.
I’ve forgotten how to do that; I’ve forgotten how to truly be myself. So while I’m no writer, I will write.