Did anyone ever wonder why people write things? Obviously, a writer writes for a lot of different reasons. For instance, to inform others of some facts; to remind themselves of what to do next; to set regulations or procedures on some things or even just to share their thoughts.
I never thought I could write poetry or even short stories. In my high school, I used to write plays for our English Literature projects and in college I am the highest in class for essay writing. It is a funny thing now I couldn’t even get to write at least one sensible essay for my CBEST examination for a teaching credential. Poetry is something I could easily come up with. However, lately I just couldn’t write. Writing on my blog-page “Expression” is really helping when things play in my head and I couldn’t get it in lines of rhymes.
I also write for reasons. One main reason is to express myself when I couldn’t believe one would be able to understand over a sit down coffee conversations where my tangents shoot or how my heart aches. There were times when I couldn’t rationalize my own emotions myself, I just feel them, accept them and even try harder to understand them. Writing them would be so much easier than explaining them. Most of the times I feel invisible and I get frustrated when nobody seemed to see me, hear me or feel me., just as how I have written it in “Fantasy” At least through poetry, musings or even paintings, I have the freedom to say things about it or even illustrate it and don’t have to feel aggravated by the hypocrisy of a recipient of my actions or facial expressions.
Living today’s life isn’t simple and easy anymore. Most people are farther more attentive to worldly needs and familiar things than giving time to tap within their own soul and try to get to know the absoluteness of others. What I meant is we interact with each other based on how we could mutually satisfy our physical senses and not how our spirit could engage with one another. This is something I could hardly explain to others. When I wrote my poem “Elements of Life” and have people read it, most of them described it as “cerebral” and still they couldn’t grasp the message in its entirety. When it simply mean how a physical element that can be touched and seen be metaphorically symbolizes something that can’t be seen but felt and known if one will just take the time to appreciate the events and the God’s given life itself.
One should be able to know more about me through my poetry. This is also one of the reasons why I write… to be known, to be seen, to be felt. It doesn’t have to be now. I may be long gone from this world before someone could say…”So this is who she really was and who else knew?” During my "breathing" time, most people probably see me as a geek goddess who get her hips wider sitting, either in front of the computer and type “stuff” or Chinese sofa table and paint “craps”. However, I know better that in the future, someone will keep my works and will treasure them and hopefully will have them pass on as my legacy. They aren’t worth for museums, galleries or even reader’s digest, but they are fragments of my behavior and personality when put together become a what I am all about.
I never thought I could write poetry or even short stories. In my high school, I used to write plays for our English Literature projects and in college I am the highest in class for essay writing. It is a funny thing now I couldn’t even get to write at least one sensible essay for my CBEST examination for a teaching credential. Poetry is something I could easily come up with. However, lately I just couldn’t write. Writing on my blog-page “Expression” is really helping when things play in my head and I couldn’t get it in lines of rhymes.
I also write for reasons. One main reason is to express myself when I couldn’t believe one would be able to understand over a sit down coffee conversations where my tangents shoot or how my heart aches. There were times when I couldn’t rationalize my own emotions myself, I just feel them, accept them and even try harder to understand them. Writing them would be so much easier than explaining them. Most of the times I feel invisible and I get frustrated when nobody seemed to see me, hear me or feel me., just as how I have written it in “Fantasy” At least through poetry, musings or even paintings, I have the freedom to say things about it or even illustrate it and don’t have to feel aggravated by the hypocrisy of a recipient of my actions or facial expressions.
Living today’s life isn’t simple and easy anymore. Most people are farther more attentive to worldly needs and familiar things than giving time to tap within their own soul and try to get to know the absoluteness of others. What I meant is we interact with each other based on how we could mutually satisfy our physical senses and not how our spirit could engage with one another. This is something I could hardly explain to others. When I wrote my poem “Elements of Life” and have people read it, most of them described it as “cerebral” and still they couldn’t grasp the message in its entirety. When it simply mean how a physical element that can be touched and seen be metaphorically symbolizes something that can’t be seen but felt and known if one will just take the time to appreciate the events and the God’s given life itself.
One should be able to know more about me through my poetry. This is also one of the reasons why I write… to be known, to be seen, to be felt. It doesn’t have to be now. I may be long gone from this world before someone could say…”So this is who she really was and who else knew?” During my "breathing" time, most people probably see me as a geek goddess who get her hips wider sitting, either in front of the computer and type “stuff” or Chinese sofa table and paint “craps”. However, I know better that in the future, someone will keep my works and will treasure them and hopefully will have them pass on as my legacy. They aren’t worth for museums, galleries or even reader’s digest, but they are fragments of my behavior and personality when put together become a what I am all about.
I have saved all my writings and my arts and still have not thought about whom I am going to entrust them to. I was hoping my own child but I no longer see that possible. So for now, I am still creating and writing with my invisibility and time will come my creations will resurrect me and then I will finally be seen.
