The Passion of Writing

"You don't write because you want to say something; you write because you've got something to say." - F. Scott Fitzgerald 

It was not long until I realized that one of my passions in life is writing. When I stepped in class for the very first time in kindergarten, my small world widened. I met kids my age, teachers young and old, and experienced many things in a day. Yet all of them could only be stored in my default memory, my brain. It was in the 3rd grade when i learned to write on my own. For the first time, I asked my Dad to buy me a diary. During those days (when blogs were still a fart of the inventors), diaries came in different shapes and sizes, paperback or hard covers. The popular ones were attached with locks.You know, to keep it top secret and only the authors would be 'able to read it'. Diaries with locks were very expensive, so my Dad just bought me a simple one, worth P15. Back then a P15-hardbound diary would cost P150 today. The diaries with locks cost around P40 - P50, which might reach P500 - P1,000 if still popular today. So going back, I enjoyed writing mostly about school--my friends, playmates, teachers and my most favorite topic of all--crushes! Soon I grew up into a teenager and set new goals in my High school life. Essay-writing became a requirement in our English class. Most of my classmates disliked writing, because as they said, it squeezed a lot of 'grammar acids' in their brains. In fact, I too, hated essay-writing. I considered it as a 'hypocritical act of humanity'. Why? Because our teachers often asked us to write about World Peace, saving the environment, obeying school rules and being a good person. I hated academic-writing. Talk about essay-writing, poetry and thesis. All I ever wanted to write about was my life, what I saw around me, and anything...just anything under the sun. That was clearly revealed when several years had passed, one morning I caught myself reading my past journals again. And upon reading them, I laughed at my young, shallow heartaches, childhood adventures, and my first travels with my friends. I even read some entries about being ridiculed about shopping with my parents. Back then I considred it childish but now I realized how much important it was to spend time with them afterall. Crying for my past crushes were also hilarious, but then it also reminded me how normal it was to feel that way, and everyone experienced them anyway. There were also writings about my frustrations in high school, such as exams, oral reports and theses. But then again, it made me think that life was much, much easier in school than at work. There were a lot of things revealed to me when I read all my past journals. I remembered my simple ambition and who I was yesterday. The broken pieces of my identity from the past were reunited once again. I never regretted spending a lot of time writing about the events that happened to me, whether they were embarrassing, senseless, shallow, or even funny, because it made me realize the beauty of memories, and they can not only be remembered in photos, but also through writing. * * *